The few for the many
by Aurora2424
Summary: Logan Cale has given a great deal of himself to Eyes Only: resources, time, health. But when a new mission and screwed up genetics demand a different type of sacrifice from Max, Logan must ask himself if he's willing to pay that price. slight AU, M/L
1. Chapter 1

**This story is meant to be after the first season style. It faithfully aheres to the storylines of the previous episodes until half-way through Meow, when Max told Logan about her "problem." Although I love that ending, my theory on the show is that it traveled over too much ground in that particular episode, I'm skeptical of the whole Max coming clean then. I would have liked to see the dance, and style of the first season, carried over into the second. In particular, the secret of Max's heat could have provided fodder for so many humorous and not so humorous storylines. This story originated out of a desire to write one of those potential stories.**

**So be warned, this story will shamelessly use the overused tropes of previous fanfiction, including heat, it will contain many sexual references, and it will most definitely be a Max/Logan storyline. If any of these things offend you, now is the time to bail. Reviews are welcome.**

The atmosphere in Logan Cale's apartment was tenser than usual. Gathered for the Eyes Only mission briefing was not only Max, but Bling, Matt Sung, and a man named Arnold Kennedy.

It was a little crowded for Logan's liking, especially with Max involved. However, Kennedy had brought in some disturbing information that required immediate and extreme action, as well as the help of a certain genetically-engineered brunette. It was risky to let Sung and Kennedy into his apartment, especially with his extensive and incriminating computer equipment so close at hand, but even with everyone gathered in his living room, Logan considered it necessary.

Arnold, a short, thick-necked blond man, who spent an overabundance of time working out his arm and pecks, had been filling them in on a Peter Gregson. For the past fifteen minutes, the briefing had focused on how the current intelligence had been acquired info on Gregson's past transgressions and future crimes. Soon in, Max began to realize that this situation was slightly different from other Eyes Only missions, and far more dangerous.

Max stated: "So the man's trafficking bio-hazard war agents. That's some serious shit, what's he doing is Seattle?"

Kennedy elaborated: "My guess, he's planning to test one of his new proto-types somewhere in the Northwest. There have been rumors stemming back ten-years linking a mysterious company with large-scale human-testing, usually as a proof of purchase for the prospective buyer. It's possible Gregson is behind this company and is thinking of performing a test in the area."

"I don't get it, why would the U.S. government let them do tests in home-territory. Seems to be a waste of resources."

Logan stepped in to answer Max's question: "Our sources are indicating that this weapon is for the South-Pacific coalition, and is a highly potent air-based compound. In the past, the company has been linked to demonstrations on small-town, rural communities, of between 3 to 5 thousand people. The deaths are always isolated and a generally hushed up quickly to prevent panic, the chemicals always non-traceable and quickly biodegradable. We suspect this guy's company is responsible for the obliteration of small towns in Russia, Brazil, and even a small town in Canada. These guys don't just go for the weak nations."

Max asked: "So why not just leak this information to the federal government? It's not like they're my favorite people, but surely they'd be interested in preventing a mass-scale public massacre."

Shaking his head, Logan responded: "The problem is the supposed "company" keeps changing; it's impossible to nail down them down since their front changes with each new weapon. All of the dummy corporations have been registered under the African-union standards, which of course prevents any foreign government for obtaining company records, and refuses to link personal names to private corporations. The modern day equivalent of the Swiss bank account."

Kennedy interrupted: "That's why this new info is so important. It links Gregson, and/or his family, with the organization."

As he spoke, Kennedy had moved from his place in the arm chair to a space on the couch beside Max. Keeping eye-contact with her, he continued: "It's confusing I know, but quite exciting."

Catching Logan's gaze, Max raised her eye-brows slightly before performing a barely perceptible eye-roll. One corner of Logan's mouth briefly tugged upwards, before he continued:

"The problem is the Gregson family is so well connected that the government wouldn't risk a full scale investigation into the charges. While they might be willing to act on solid information, they're not going to put the Gregsons to any inconvenience to sniff out leads."

"Or prevent the deaths of thousands of innocent people," piped up Bling.

"Exactly," Logan added. "We need this information and we need to get it fast, so we can make the military take action. Eyes Only is aware of the situation and he has authorized us to use whatever resources the informant net has to stop these guys before they simply wipe out a small town."

Sung asked, "So what do you want us to do Logan?"

"Well, for one Matt, we need you to find a way to get us some first-rate sector passes, so we can come and go as the need arises. We also need you to keep yourself on call to act as an intermediary once we find the information we need."

Matt nodded.

"Bling, I need you to act in my stead as a go between with Eyes Only." Bling nodded, he knew what Logan was really asking him to do was man the Informant Net and use the Voice-Clone for any cable hacks that needed performed while he was away.

"Arnold, you need to keep up your front in Gregson's company, while I take a Cale vacation to the Gregson family casino, which is about 40 miles outside the city." Seeing the Max's curiosity Logan explained: "I happen to know the Gregsons from family circles, as you might have guessed Jonas wasn't exactly discriminating in who we socialized with as long as they had the right pedigree. While they might not welcome me into their business meeting, I might be able to attend some less formal functions and get a good idea of who their working with. They are still huddle up there, Arnold?"

"Yeah, and from what I can glean it seems like the testing won't be all that far from home."

"Good." There was a short pause before Max interceded.

"So what do you need me to do? Smuggle some files, stake out some surveillance?" Max sensed a slight discomfort in Logan and was trying to ease the situation. She figured he was trying to keep her "abilities" on the DL and didn't want to let on to Sung and Arnold the level of her involvement in previous missions.

It was Arnold who answered, apparently already somewhat aware of the plan: "Sort of, we need you to use your god-given talents to get close to Gregson." He smiled at her, leaning in just ever so slightly while dangling an arm behind the couch.

Max didn't bother to hide her sardonic look this time, slightly annoyed with both his patronizing tone and level of involvement.

Logan cleared his throat to get her attention: "Apparently, Gregson has a slight weakness.." Logan's eyes were firmly locked with Max's, she guessed in an effort to mitigate her reaction to his point. "...for attractive brunettes."

"That right?" Max asked, not sure whether to be amused or annoyed, but definitely not liking where this conversation was headed.

"Seems he's quite a 'collector'" Logan was hoping that casual tone would make Max more willing to comply. "He also has a tendency to keep his companions close at hand. Generally wining and dining them, bringing them on business trips for the few weeks they're together."

"So let me get this straight…" Max's eyes clashing with Logan's as her voice took on its best sarcastic tilt. "You want me to shake my ass at some billionaire psychopath, who's probably eighty-years old with a saggy ass, so he'll make me his love-toy for a few weeks in the hopes I _might_ hear a few words dropped on this case?"

For his part, Logan didn't let his eyes waver. He knew any sign of weakness on his part would further incense Max. "Actually, Peter is under forty and I believe he's considered by those in my family's circle to have quite a nice ass."

Max gave a slight huff of amusement at his joke, but she didn't back down. "I hate to break this to you Logan, but you can tell Eyes Only I'm not going to spread my legs for him, nice ass or no."

Although the double meaning was lost on Sung and Kennedy, the men were unsettled enough by the blunt words and confrontational tone to look away from the conversation. Bling, who was probably the only person in the room able to pick up on the levels of meaning in the exchange, was attempting to bore holes in the side of Logan's head, willing him to reassure Max on the person level neither of them seemed to realize they were dancing around.

Besides for a slight clenching of his jaw, Logan's face remained impassive and focused, he answered: "For all his despicable attributes, one fault that Gregson doesn't possess is a love of working-girl population. Our sources indicate that Gregson tends to invest heavily into his relationships where the subject remains a bit of a 'challenge.' All you need to do is get and keep his attention long enough to get the information, if he tries anything you'll have back-up."

The last comment was a covert reminder to Max that Logan knew she was perfectly able to handle herself if the situation arose. For some reason, that annoyed Max all the more.

"Well suppose I agree to this arrangement. How am I suppose to grab this guy's attention, not to mention get Normal to let me off work long enough to take a honeymoon with him?"

Acknowledging the concession he knew she had just given, Logan turned his eyes briefly to Kennedy: "Actually, what I want to do is use your position at Jam Pony to gain access to him. Arnold sometimes handles the packages that come through security. If we can send a signature-requested package to Gregson that you personally deliver that will provide you with a meeting time, and a credible identity."

"Yeah, my own." Max huffed, obviously unhappy on a number of levels.

This time Logan responded to her mood by softening his voice and leaning toward her. "I know Max, I hate using your real identity too, but I'm going to be there the whole time, accessing the files, removing your name and pictures from the surveillance pictures. You're also going to the last in the long-string of girlfriends. Your position won't attract unusual attention. "

Finally gaining eye contact with her, Logan further soften his voice, once again making the other men in the room feel like they were intruding in a personal discussion… "_Max_, thousands of people's lives are on the line, you're the only one I trust to do this."

Max had once told Logan that the one thing she wasn't was a chump, however, at this moment she distinctly felt like one.

Knowing that she had already acquiesced, Max stated: "Okay, suppose I agree to this. What's to say boy-wonder decides he wants to kick it with me? I mean bike-shorts and backwards hats don't exactly make for seductive gear."

Despite her Manticore training, it was only Logan's smile that Max registered, though the three other men all smiled at her question.

"We'll come to that bridge if it comes to it, and Max… thanks."

Deciding it was time to rejoin the conversation, Kennedy piped up: "Max, sweetheart, I don't think you'll have any trouble with anything you wear. You're sexier in flannels than most women in swimsuits."

Taking a moment to give her what he considered his "winning" smile and stretch his shoulders above his head, Kennedy continued: "with you on our team we're bound to get him. And don't worry, I'll be there to get your… back."

Realizing that Max was seconds away from laying Kennedy out, both Bling and Logan rose.

"Hmm… we'd better get going; give Logan time to put any information together." Bling said.

"Yeah, thanks for stopping over. I'll be in touch."

XXXXXXXX

Despite his earlier comment, Bling lingered behind after Sung and Kennedy left. He wanted a chance to address Logan, but he waited respectfully in the other room as Max and Logan went over logistics regarding her role.

Finally finished with details, Logan returned to the previous conversation: "I meant what I said Max. I'm not going to let this be exposure for you. It's just this is probably the most important case Eyes Only has ever had and I need you to be the one to do this."

Although Max nodded at him, Logan felt the need to break through her aloofness, make her interact with him rather than just responding with placid indifference. "Besides, how many stunning brunettes does Eyes Only have working for him that could entice Peter Gregson?" He punctuated his statement with a half-smile that reached his eyes.

Giving him a slight smile and full eye-roll in response, Max responded: "_Whatever_… but let me just be clear about one thing. If this guy Gregson gives me any jewelry, I'm keeping it."

A full smile spread across Logan's face: "Fair-enough. And Max, be careful, he's a dangerous man."

XXXXXXX

Closing the door behind her, Logan let out a small sigh before heading back into the living room to talk with Bling.

As he began picking up everyone's wine glass, he asked. "Hey. You have any questions about maintaining the informant net?"

"Not really, just felt the need to drop a few observations at your doorstep."

"Yeah? I haven't had any of your pearls of wisdom in a while. What's on your mind?"

"Well I guess I wanted to ask you whether or not you're really okay with Max doing this?"

Logan frowned, as he met Bling's gaze. "I'm not thrilled about putting her identity out there, but it's a calculated risk."

"That's not what I meant."

"Oh?... Then what did you mean?"

Growing a little sterner at Logan's obtuseness, Bling pressed: "I mean about putting her in a position where she might feel pressured to sleep with some guy in order to gather information for Eyes Only."

"And let me repeat Bling, using Max is a calculated risk. But she can hold her own, she won't be forced into doing something physical with any guy"

"Maybe not physically Logan, but what do you think is going to happen if it takes longer than expected to get the information? It's not something that we usually acknowledge, but Max is an incredibly sexy woman; how many wealthy, playboys do you know that are going to wait weeks to sleep with her? If we're close to getting the information we need, and it becomes put out or get out situation, with thousands of lives in the balance, don't you think Max might feel a bit of pressure?"

"It won't take weeks; besides, Max is smart. She'll figure it out."

"You say that calmly now Logan; how are you going to feel three weeks into the project?"

"I don't like the situation Bling, but what else am I going to do?"

"Well for starters, you can let her know that you don't want her to sleep with him."

Logan began to feel his temper rise: "I did tell her that."

"No, you told her that it won't be necessary, you even implied that "Eyes Only" doesn't want her sleep with anyone for information, but did you let her know that you, Logan Cale, don't want her to sleep with Gregson or anyone else for that matter?"

"Bling! That's hardly relevant or…."

"Or what? Now I'm going to do you a favor before you begin with your 'we're not like that' bull. I'm going to let you know what you didn't see in this room when you told Max what you wanted her to do, and I'm going to tell you no matter how pissed off you get. That woman heard you, Logan, put her in a position where it seems like you didn't care whether or not some other guy took a run at her; in fact, she heard that you'd willingly convince her to be with someone else if the situation benefitted others. She saw a man who sees her as a weapon, not as a woman. Part of her knows that's you being you, but the other part, the part that's an unsure young woman with a lot of emotional baggage, can't figure out what's up, and she will protect herself from you if she needs to."

"Are you done?"

"No. Logan, you think you can give everything you are to the cause. And maybe you're right, you can. But just for a moment, I want you to consider what it's going to feel like to give Max to the cause. Picture another man touching her, and see how rational you can be."

Meeting Logan's clenched jaw and piercing gaze, Bling ventured on.

"One last point, and then I'll go. If that girl trades her body for the lives of three-thousand strangers I want you to acknowledge your own culpability in it, and don't you dare ever think of using it against her."

Logan didn't answer, and Bling didn't expect him to. He simply let himself out, remembering sometimes doing the right thing wasn't easy. The man left behind was his best living example of that.

XXXXXXXXXX

Bling's words were still unpleasantly ringing in his ears when Logan met up with Max three days later to report on her progress. In fact, as she walked in still wearing her Jam pony gear, Logan had a difficult time banning the image of Peter Gregson pulling Max against him, to press against her lush lips.

It took a moment for him to register what she meant when she stated: "Phase one of mission accomplished, sir!" mock saluting him.

"Hmm… it went well with Gregson?"

"Yeah, well not at first. I thought when he signed for the package he didn't even notice me, and to be honest I didn't really have time to flirt before I was led back to the exit. But apparently he did, because he showed up at Jam Pony the next day."

"And…"

"Well I have to ask Logan, do you rich guys get pulled aside at a certain age in school and taught how to come on to a woman? Cuz he took a few moves right out of your play book." Max's tone was light and teasing, but Logan found himself struggling a little for his usual deadpan.

"Why? He asked you to work for an under-ground cyber journalist?"

"No, but he did pay Normal off for my name and address and showed up to Crash later. I even got to recycle my 'And a guy walks into a bar line'. I had to say, I did get a little creeped out when he said I had the most beautiful face he'd ever seen, I mean he didn't use the word 'singularly' and their wasn't a neo-classic, gold-leafed mirror, but it definitely had that cocky, good-looking rich guy edge." Max smiled widely, enjoying herself.

It was the first time either of them had broached the subject of Logan's early seduction, followed by his revelation that he knew Max was a transgenic. Somehow, it had seemed taboo: as if both had exposed too much of their hand during that early encounter.

For Logan, the memory was tied with his lost ability to walk. He had felt that coming on to Max was a privilege one lost when one couldn't stand upright. Now, post-exo, post-regaining the ability to walk, the memory was buried under the guilt of having been cavalier with her feelings. He had wanted her when he had stood before that mirror; he had just wanted her as Sophie's protector more.

Remembering the way her face had turned to his, the heat radiating from her body, the confidence that she would let him touch her, Logan felt irrationally angry and territorial. Suppressing the feeling, his voice came out low and calm: "Did you ask him if he always came on that strong?"

Something about the way he said it made Max shiver; it reminded her of how exposed she felt when he'd turned away. Matching his tone, but adding the slightest bit of innuendo behind it, Max responded: "No, I already knew the answer to that, after all it wasn't my barcode he was trying to get a peek at."

Shaking herself mentally, Max reminded herself of the trillionth time that Logan and her weren't like that. It hadn't always been easy, but since her hook up with the pizza delivery boy, which she had hidden from Logan along with the realities of heat, Max had maintained more of a distance. It was either that or have her head explode.

The past few weeks, however, had become more difficult. More dinners, less Eyes Only missions, had led to some serious dancing around the issue. It had taken this latest event to remind her that Logan, obviously, didn't care if she hooked up with another guy.

So smiling slyly at him, Max continued in a more upbeat voice, "You know, I should get a cut of what I bring Normal. He really has nothing to complain about if I slack a little."

He smiled back, trying to play along. "You're quite the money maker for him."

Their eyes met and locked as feelings attempted to bubble through that one outlet.

Finally finding his voice, Logan spoke, more gently this time: "You know Max, I know that I asked you to do this, and I am grateful that you are, but…"

"But?" she gently pushed him.

"but.. I don't like the idea of this guy coming on to you. You know that right? I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or feel like you need to let him… to let him... I don't want you to feel pressured…that's all."

Perhaps it wasn't the most coherent confession, but for them it was a lot. It also contained enough ambiguity to not have to deal with any far reaching consequences.

For her part, Max gave him the reassurance he wanted: "Well you know, I think he has a thing for bitchiness, he was totally into it when I told I wasn't into self-centered, rich boys."

"Hmm… he's in for a treat then."

They were both fully smiling now.

"Hey Logan?"

"Yeah?"

"Since you owe me a favor, there is one thing I need you to do…."


	2. Chapter 2

**Second warning: this story has a one track mind...**

The next few days passed without incident. Information was gathered, Logan made reservation for that Saturday at the casino; Max was asked by her "boyfriend" whether she would come out for a stay.

However, for that Friday, as Logan knocked on Max's apartment door he was greeted, not by the sounds of Eyes Only informants, but by Max's friends who were gathered round a hodgepodge of tables and chairs, attempting to resemble a long, dining table.

Max's request had been for Logan to attend this dinner. Apparently, Kendra and Mr. Multiples had recently split and a devastated Kendra was "searching for a reconnection" with her peeps. This dinner was meant to "flush out" the bad karma in the place where she and Walter had met. How Logan fit into this, he wasn't quite sure, but from the looks of the others, he wasn't the only one asking that question.

Also in attendance were Sketchy and his new girlfriend, introduced as Megan, a frizzy-headed dirty blond who seemed intimidated by the big personalities of the women surrounding her, Toby, another bike messenger, Kendra, OC, and Max. It was a lot of people for the small apartment, and between the bodies and the cooking it was extremely warm.

Catching sight of Logan from across the crowded apartment, Max weaved her way through her friends to meet him at the door. Setting his offering of wine on the counter, Max grabbed his hands and tugged him toward the door: "Come on!"

Once outside, Max took in a big swig of air and backed herself against the wall.

"God it's hot in there!" Looking at Logan, she gave a frustrated shake of the head, "You have no idea how bad it's been. Kendra has been in there all day, cooking, rearranging, cleaning, making noise and more noise! Did you see she moved OC's bedroom; her entire bedroom? And the talking, seriously Logan, if I hear one more story about Walter's penis or the different sexual positions they tried I think I'm going to murder someone. I mean I know the girl is going through some trauma, but does it have include a detailed litany of her sexual antics with an over-weight sector cop? I mean there is only so much a genetically enhanced former soldier can take!"

Something about Max's increasing exasperation, her defeated posture, and her wild eye-rolling, was incredibly comical to Logan. As he stood there in the cool hallway, listening to her pent-up tirade about friends whom he had heard many stories of – Logan felt a pressure begin to swell in his chest. He felt so connected to her, so incredibly in tune and comfortable and with this realization came the urge to touch her. Smiling, he reached for her hand.

Max had noticed Logan's emerging smirk and wasn't pleased by it. "Don't you dare laugh, you won't be laughing when you in the thick of it; payback's a bitch!"

"Max!" replied a chuckling Logan, drawing her arms around him as he placed his hands on her waist, "This is what 'normal' girls do."

"And the seating chart," Max moaned, feeling totally natural at being pulled into Logan's embrace, "She nearly had a hissy fit when Sketchy walked in with a date. Something like we can't have an uneven number. The poor girl was so frightened hasn't spoken since she got here.." By the end, Max too was laughing. Something about Logan's mirth was addictive.

"Maybe that means I should sneak out the back."

"Don't you dare Logan Cale, I will so kick your ass."

Smiling down at her, Logan stated: "Right, guess that means I'm stuck," before pulling a laughing Max against his chest.

Pulling her against him had been a mistake. The second their bodies touched, they ignited. It was all Logan could do to stifle his groan.

There hadn't been much time for touching since Logan had regained his ability to walk. The rescue of Tinga had been arduous. Brin's death had been difficult to deal with. Zack had been aloof and hostile. Eyes Only missions had kept springing up. Original Cindy had pieced together Logan's secret identity. Bling or OC kept interrupting moments or looks. Of course there had been the normal flow of life, but more than anything else there are been the constant presence of their defense shields, still fully operational.

Partly, Logan blamed himself for his reaction after the first blood transfusion had failed. He knew Max had correctly interpreted the loaded pistol on his desk. And he knew it scared her. Of course in the back of her mind would be the question: What if this cure, which Max had pulled out for him from the depths of Manticore, failed and he became despondent again? For Logan the question had been: what if the cure fails and I'm once again incomplete?

All of that seemed to fade into an obscure foggy mist at the feel of her body. He allowed himself to rest his head on top of hers and gently breathe in the smell of her shampoo. His reaction was so powerful, it was unnerving. Max had allowed herself a similar indulgence. Letting her hand trail up his back slightly, the softness of his sweater and the feel of the solid muscle enough to make her blood pulse.

It was Logan who broke the contact, aware that his body's response was becoming more pronounced. Nevertheless, he only disconnected himself to arms length and managed to smile down at her.

"Anything else you need to warn me about?"

Staring up into his eyes, Max began: "No… oh, yes. Listen Logan, OC knows that this thing with Peter is an Eyes Only thing. And the other don't."

"Wait, what? How do either of them know about this?"

"Logan! Peter's been hanging around me, coming to Crash, of course my peeps notice some guy creeping and they want to know the 411."

"So why tell Cindy the truth? I mean I know she knows my deal, but why tell her about Gregson. Didn't she like him? OC has great instincts."

"Because… she kept saying how I was replacing you with this new "carbon copy" guy, so I finally got so sick of it and I told her we were hanging out by your directions, which of course needed explanation." Max was actually shocked by her honesty, she couldn't believe she'd even repeated Original Cindy's witticism for Peter, "carbon boy."

She must be tired.

"We are not alike!" was Logan indignant reply.

Of course, thought Max, leave Logan to pick up on that part of the conversation, and ignore the whole implication that Max would want a man like him.

"Well you're not attempting to wipe out any small populations, but you both have the whole, grew up in privilege aura, going on." Before Logan could voice further objection Max also brought up another point of the evening that Logan should be aware of. "And Logan, I think I should also mention that Kendra thinks you're gay."

"What?! Why?"

"Well apparently since we haven't banged the gong, and that you're still willing to come to this shindig when I'm "dating" someone else, Kendra has deduced that you must prefer the company of the Y chromosome." Max couldn't help but laugh at the expression on Logan's face, somewhere between indignant shock and futile frustration.

"Not that I have anything against those who prefer their own gender, but hasn't Kendra even considered the possibility that a heterosexual male and female could just be friends."

"Logan, this is Kendra were talking about! Come on, we need to go back in there before OC knocks her out."

XXXXXX

The dinner was all that Max had warned him of. Kendra dictated the majority of the conversation, peppering it with explicit stories of "Mr. Multiple" encounters and expositions on relationships, everyone else sat in near silence and ate the over-seasoned food, which was obviously the product of a disturbed mind.

As the evening continued and the alcohol continued to flow, members of the party became less willing to let Kendra's theories pass without commentary.

Sketchy, in particular, was interested in debating some of Kendra's more over-reaching theories: "So you're telling me he could do it all night long, without pause for twelve hours, and you think his level of sexual prowess is somehow related to his hands?"

"Uh huh, Walter had the most sexy, strong deeply lined hands, mmmm. You could tell he'd be an amazing lover." Turning to Logan, Kendra murmured: "I bet you have nice hands," but when Logan seemed unwilling to place them in her palm she continued, "oh right I forgot…" giving him a drunken smile.

Logan's eyes met with Max's for an amused exchange.

"Now Original Cindy just isn't buying that. I happen to be a bit of a connoisseur when it comes to lovely female hand and I have had fine lovers of every shape and size." Seeing where Sketchy's mind was headed, she added, "Don't make me come over there and smack you…"

"Well it's not just about the hands, it's also about one's level of openness and one's ability to communicate about the sexual act. Take Walter for example, he could spend hours on the phone discussing what he was going to do you that night. He was always willing to explore new avenues, and discuss previous sexual encounters. We had a very communicative relationship."

Logan realized just how drunk Kendra was when she didn't take the least bit of notice of the horrified expression on the other female faces in the room. Max looked like she was debating how much pressure she needed to put on Kendra's neck before she passed out, O.C. looked like she was having trouble keeping her supper down, and the terrified Megan looked ready to bolt out the door. As for the men, well they all seemed to have the look of someone watching a horrible accident that they couldn't tear their eyes away from.

It was O.C. who finally said, "Yeah, well just don't ask Mr. Multiples to run up a flight of steps; wouldn't want him to have a heart attack."

Max let out a snort of laughter, even Logan smiled. But Sketchy, who had never seen the sector cop looked quizzically at Kendra for an explanation.

"While it might be true that Walter wasn't the most perfect of male-specimens…"

"If there even is such a thing," interjected Cindy.

"…I happen to believe that physical beauty is totally unrelated to sexuality. Just because someone's attractive does not mean they have a good sex life, or vice versa."

"Now I know that's totally BS," Sketchy responded. "Everyone knows that hotter the individual, male or female," he added diplomatically, "the more selection one will have and, therefore, the better sex. It's a question of basic math."

"Yeah," quipped Toby, "the hotter the babe, the hotter the sex."

"That is such an unenlightened view of things," sneered Kendra. Noticing their looks of disbelief she slurred on: "Okay, need an example? Take Max here…."

At the time Max had been putting a fork-full of food into her mouth, and she nearly choked at Kendra's comment.

Original Cindy was quick to voice a warning "Kendra, don't you even think of going there, Max will definitely lay the smack down on you." but the drunken woman seemed to ignore both their responses.

"we all know Max is a gorgeous woman, with a perfect body. And let me assure you, having lived with her, it really is as perfect as it looks."

Adding as an afterthought, "It enough to make one sick, perky Maxie with her Kitty Kat walk."

Max and Original Cindy traded flabbergasted looks.

"Max is rather fine…" interjected Sketchy, obviously extremely interested in where this conversation is headed.

Remembering where she was going with this, Kendra continued: "Can any of us remember a time at Crash when she hasn't been hit on?"

"Kendra…." Max's warning was low and intense, Logan could swear he almost heard a growl in it.

"No, all I'm saying, Max, is that you're like the perfect female, every guy we meet wants you…. Well almost" she nodded her head in Logan's direction.

Turning her head back to the rest of the table, Kendra continued: "Now is there anybody here who doesn't know our girl is like the least communicative individual on the planet? O.C. surely you can back me up here."

"Well you know pulling information for Max is like…" catching Max's eye, however, OC changed her direction "but my boo is a mystery, nothing wrong with playing your cards close to the chest."

"Well," continued Kendra, "by Sketchy's theory Max should be having mind-blowing sex that she's not telling us about. But according to my theory she's not…"

"So which is it Max?" Sketchy asked, only to swallow hard when he saw the murderous glare in her eyes.

"May I submit for the records two bits of evidence…." Kendra began.

"Kendra," Max interjected, "I love you, but I'm two seconds away from snapping your neck like a twig."

Given the tone of her voice, Logan wasn't all too sure Max was bluffing.

"Max what's the big deal? I mean we all tell you about our sex life. Besides, your sugar-daddy ain't here and we all know you're not doing it with Logan."

It was O.C. who reacted fast enough to block the irate Max from reaching Kendra. "Down girl. She's drunk and you're a bit stronger than her."

Cindy held Max's gaze, willing her to calm down. "Fine." Max tersely replied, though she didn't sit back down, but went to stand by the window.

"In my year and half of living with Max, do you know how many guys she's brought home?"

"No." replied Sketchy and Toby simultaneously. For his part, Logan attempted to keep a neutral expression on his face, despite his interest in the topic.

"Only two guys: "The crier" and Gilligan, what was his name..."

"Eric," Max nearly hissed from the window.

"Right, now Eric, Max didn't sleep with, he just passed out in her bed, and in an act of magnanimity, she decided to let him believe he'd slept with her."

"Wait," interjected Sketchy. "Some guy out there believes he hit it with Max, but he actually didn't. That feels so wrong on so many levels, how could you deceive him like that Max! Or the entire male race for that matter?"

Taking a deep breath for patience, Max responded: "He was so… happy about what he thought happened, I just couldn't crush his hopes like that. Besides, maybe it will give him more confidence for his future endeavors."

Max was doing her best not to look at Logan, who she knew had pieced together the rest of the story from his encounter with Eric.

"He also gave my girl a case of motor oil," piped up Cindy.

"Okay right, so this guy Max brings home she doesn't even sleep with him, but "the crier" is a good example of an actual relationship of hers." Kendra continued.

"Wait, are you talking about Darren?" asked Cindy. Catching Logan's quirked eyebrow, Cindy filled him in: "Loser, dated Max right before you two met, got caught with his pants around his ankles doing the dirty with one of Max's former friends."

If anything that made Logan's eyebrows edge higher. He couldn't image someone stupid enough to cheat on Max, for a variety of reasons.

"Yeah, Darren."

"Why do you call him that – sounds like one of my pet names, but I don't remember him letting no rivers flow when him and Max broke up. I just remember his look of wide-eyed terror when Max and I walked in on him and Justine."

Sketchy picking up on the idea, asked: "So if he didn't cry when they broke up, did he cry during…."

"After." Kendra corrected. "And Max was horrified. I'll never forget it. She asked me if all men have a tendency to cry after sex."

"That is not what I asked!" Max corrected, feeling utterly humiliated at the looks directed at her. "I asked if men cry after they've already been with a girl before." Realizing this explanation was no better, she tried again: "We'd already done it once, so I didn't expect him to get all emotional on me." Max's face had turn four shades red and she was once again running through her list of possible ways to kill with her bare hands.

Oblivious to her discomfort, Kendra continued: "Well the first time you were a bit aggressive if I recall Max. I mean, there I was sitting in our apartment when Max comes barreling into the room dragging this guy behind her. When he tried to say something, Max just slammed him against that beam over there, told him not to speak, and nearly threw him into the bedroom. The poor guy didn't know what hit him. Which…" she said, holding her hand up to Sketchy, "might prove your point, except when they started dating, Max could barely stand to let him kiss her, he must have been a total dud in bed."

Original Cindy, took the moment to register the open mouthed reaction of the two guys who were obviously picturing an aggressive Max slamming them up against a wall, as well as Logan's more enigmatic expression. His gaze was focused on Max's back, as she had turned to stare out the window. It was intense, but not exactly jealous, as difficult to read as their relationship.

Sketchy cleared his throat: "That evidence is totally inconclusive, Max might be a female who prefers alternative settings."

"Good point," remarked Kendra, who took another deep swig of wine. "But what about the fact when I told her about Walter's "abilities" Max stated that such longevity was not her experience, that men, and I quote "always need you to stop and tell them what a good job they're doing..." not exactly the statement of a woman who'd had lots of satisfying encounters."

Turning to face the table, Max spoke evenly: "I also said I hate the weird cuddle-thing they do, would you like to analyze that aspect of our private conversation?" Both Original Cindy and Logan hear the dangerous undertone to her voice.

"Wait a minute, you hate cuddles?" Sketchy was truly flabbergasted: "I thought every girl wanted the whole cuddle deal afterwards. Like they needed to let them know they aren't some body you just used."

"Shut up fool," said Cindy

"No Sketchy," Max's voice was flat, low, and dangerous, "actually after I have sex with some guy, the first thing I think about is taking a hot shower to remove their disgusting grim from me, and curse whoever made us for our screwed up genetics."

Although Logan picked up the Manticore reference, it was only Original Cindy who knew just how deep this particular scar ran.

"Now I hate to break up the party kids, but I'm done listening to this cracked out discussion on my sex life. I'm outta here."

XXXXXX

When Max returned to the apartment two hours later, she paused to listen outside the door for clues on what was going on inside. All she heard was the noises of dishes being washed. Figuring she was safe, Max entered.

"Hey." Logan greeted her arrival, looking up from the dishes.

"Hey," Max replied softly, feeling slightly cheered but also nervous by his presence. "Is it safe to return?" she asked, although she already knew the answer.

"Yep, everyone cleared out of her about an hour ago. Original Cindy and I have been cleaning up. Kendra was starting to sober up a bit and kept telling everyone to tell you how sorry she was. I think you can expect an apology visit tomorrow, once her hang-over subsides."

"So…" Max began. "sorry about leaving you here, guess that wasn't the best hosting job you've ever experienced."

"It's alright, can't say I blame you too much."

Comforted by his tone of voice, Max met his eyes and smiled slightly, "Well I guess this teaches me to exact revenge upon others. I drag you out here, only have myself be tortured by Kendra's rendition of my sex-life…from you know, before you met me."

"Before, yeah." There was something in Logan's eyes that didn't quite fit the situation. Max couldn't quite put her fingers on it, but she could tell he was searching for something from her.

Filling the silence that had gathered around them, Logan replied, "Course, I did talk to the illustrious Eric during that whole episode."

"Yeah, you know he was quite the guy – gave me presents, saved my life – all on some sexual fantasy that never happened." She smiled again, hoping to ease whatever subtext was going on.

"Hey boo." Original Cindy walked in, obviously coming back from having emptied the trash. "You aiight?"

"Yeah, fine."

"Well ladies, I need to go home, prepare some things for my trip tomorrow. You remember my room number Max?"

"Yeah, 256."

"Good. See you later."

Logan left with a lingering glance at Max.

"Hey boo," Cindy said, interrupting Max's thoughts. "There's something you need to know."

Max sighed. "How come I already know I'm not going to like this?"

And she didn't. Apparently after Max had stormed out of the apartment, the "debate" had not been dropped. Instead, Sketchy had gone on to defend Max's "honor" by recounting a conversation he'd had with guy named Rafer. Rafer was, Max remembered, the pizza-delivery guy whom she had hooked up with during a previous heat cycle. Rafer hadn't been off put by her disappearance during the night. Rather, he had shown up at Jam Pony a few times, attempting to ask Max out on date. He'd even shown up at Crash once to insinuate himself with Max's friends. Overall, he seemed like a pretty okay guy; it's just his presence reminded Max of everything she hated about herself and Manticore.

Evidently, he had also shown up another time when Max wasn't there. He had hung out with Sketchy and the two had gotten hammered. Inevitably, the conversation had turned to Max and when Sketchy had advised him to give it up because Max didn't go for many guys; Rafer had replied that he couldn't that Max had given him the hottest night of his life three weeks ago and he just couldn't get it or her off his mind.

Sketchy's moment of triumph in the debate had fallen on deaf ears since Kendra was nearly passed out by the end of his story. The only one who had said anything was Logan. He'd asked how long ago Sketchy had spoken to Rafer.

"It must have been nearly nine months ago by now," murmured Max, envisioning in her mind Logan's quick subtraction and the mental timeline he would have put it in.

"And another, beaten, heat cycle-ago," Cindy reminded her. "Besides, the boy couldn't know it happened the night of your anniversary."

"No, but he'd suspect it. I didn't exactly give him much of a reason for bailing."

"Now before you go boo-wooing, I need to tell you the rest of what happened." Cindy interrupted the storm already beginning in Max's head. "The party broke up, pretty soon after Kendra began to fall asleep, and I had Sketchy take her home so you wouldn't beat on her ass when you got back. That roller-boy of yours (the name had stuck despite the change) kept lingering around supposedly to help clean, though you know as well as I that he was waiting around to see if you were alright, and well, I might have clued him in that things weren't quite what they appeared to be."

"Cindy? You didn't tell him about my estro-cycle. Please tell me you didn't."

"No, Original Cindy did not tell him that. That is something that definitely needs to come from a long overdue conversation between the two of you. I just said that what's going on with you isn't always what appears on the surface of things. Which he definitely could relate to. And then I said that there were somethings about you being you that maybe you weren't willing to share with everybody yet, including him."

"What did he say to that?"

"He didn't say anything, he just offered to do the dishes."

Max sighed and went to stare out the window, pondering the events of the evening including Logan's and Original Cindy's conversation. Across town with his pent-house view, Logan Cale was doing the same.


	3. Chapter 3

_Gregson family Casino, 45 miles outside of Seattle…._

Research into Peter Gregson's activities had progressed at a slow, but steady pace. Logan and Max had been within the casino for nearly five days, and during that time Logan had been invited to attend many dinners and late-night parties with the Gregsons' inner circle.

Max had been nearly inseparable from the dark haired, light eyed Peter, who seemed completely enthralled with her. Given the possibility that someone in Gregson's set might have attended Logan's cousin's wedding and remembered Max as his date, the two had met under the pretext that they were exes, who'd had a brief and unimportant relationship. Thankfully, their interaction during Bennett's wedding served to confirm this report – with gossip mills buzzing with how chummy Logan and Daphne had been.

For his part, Logan felt himself constantly on edge. There was something about Gregson's use of Max's real name and Max's use of her real attitude that made the mission seem uncanny. Watching Gregson constantly touching Max, and her rare flirty replies was also … unnerving. In some ways, Logan felt like he was watching what his own relationship with Max might have been like if he really was just a bored rich kid and she was just a beautiful smart ass.

Fortunately, neither was what they appeared to be. It took two days for Logan to break into the casino's surveillance system, but now he was able to hack into their control room and mess with the feed to their monitors. This gave Max and him the ability to meet up during off hours and brief each other on the mission.

"Hey. Coast clear?" ask Max as she slid through the door frame.

"Hey Max, yeah everything's good. According to the casino's surveillance, you're spending the next two hours napping."

"You know it still creeps me out that they got cameras in the rooms. I mean, until you got a good look at their system I was giving the guys a regular peep show after showering."

"Yeah not exactly big on the whole privacy accommodation."

"I guess I should be grateful they don't have cameras in the bathrooms. They'd have some twisted individuals applying to work here."

While they had been talking, Max had unceremoniously flopped herself on Logan's bed.

"Mmm… this is much better than mine. I think Peter purposely gave me the most uncomfortable bed in the damn hotel, hoping to lure me to greener pastures. Unlucky for him, those don't necessarily mean his."

Clearing his throat, Logan asked what had been on his mind for days: "You okay on that front? He's not being aggressive or anything?"

"Nah, I mean for a man who's supposedly this amazing lady killer, he seriously needs to work on his make-out skills. I felt I was losing a game of tonsil hockey last time he got me alone. But he definitely lost the game of grabby hands."

Max smiled reassuringly at Logan, before taking out the file she brought with her.

"I brought you a present."

"Yeah, looks like Gregson already gave you one," Logan gestured to the new pair of earrings Max was wearing, before reaching for the file in her hands.

"Yeah, I think I got them for letting him stick his tongue down my throat. Wonder what I'll get if I let him cop and feel," Max's was going for a good laugh, but the sight of Logan's raised eyebrow and flushed face made her feel like she'd get stumbled on a new form of entertainment.

Sitting up slightly to get a better view, Max continued in a breezy tone: "Mmmm…. I was thinking I could definitely use a matching necklace, maybe even a bracelet. How much do you think those go for?"

Logan didn't answer, just held her with an increasingly intense stare.

Exploiting tactical advantage, Max asked in a slightly pouty voice: "What's a matter Logan? Jealous you didn't make me your quid pro quo genetically enhanced lover when you had the chance? I also work for motorcycle parts."

When again he didn't answer, Max couldn't help but wonder what the result of this would be. Maybe a lecture on the seriousness of their mission? Or perhaps a scolding on her mercenary tactics? Hell, he might even snap at her, which would be a good excuse to vent some of her frustration at him for putting her in this set up.

Standing up and walking over to the mirror, Max purposely brushed her hair behind her ear as if to stare at her new possession. Now employing a blatantly insinuating tone, Max tried again: "You know Logan, you did tell me I could keep whatever jewelry I _earned_."

Logan's response wasn't any of the scenarios Max had anticipated. Rather than saying anything he stood up and moved directly behind her, leaning slightly into her exposed ear. Holding her eyes in the mirror with a searing look, he whispered huskily: "But what's the fun if he's not any good?"

Their eyes clashing, Max couldn't control the slight shiver that ran down her spine, but she did manage to control her face. As she turned around within the circle of Logan's body, Max felt determined to win this round of mirror-seduction.

Putting her lips within easy reach of his, she murmured: "Maybe he's better at the other things."

"Like what," replied Logan, as he leaned just a millimeter closer to Max, "wiping out small villages?"

Smiling slightly at his reply, Max used his comment as an out, physically and mentally retreating back to the safety of business, as she stepped around him to reach for the discarded file. Max replied in a more neutral tone: "Well actually, it looks like his uncle is the one who takes point on that."

Proceeding to dispel the tenseness, Max continued: "According to the intelligence I've gathered, Pete is just the frontman, it's Uncle Silas who's handling the business with the South Pacificians. That's why we haven't been able to gather any concrete data on the location of the strike until now."

Examining the file, Logan asked: "This is incredible Max, nearly enough to go to the military with, but how did you get it if Gregson isn't on the take?"

"I was at one of their business luncheons this afternoon and noticed all the subtext that was going on. Seemed pretty obvious the Pete wasn't in the know. So when they were handing out business reports, I swapped Pete's copy with one of the more "informed" members. The results of which you have in your hands. Getting a hold of Peter's copy wasn't difficult."

"This is great, between these documents and the surveillance photos we have the link between the responsible parties and solid evidence on the plot." Looking at Max, Logan gave her his familiar 'we've saved the world smile. "We're almost there!"

Looking back again, Logan continued: "Hmm… nothing about the location of the strike though."

"Logan, from what I can gather their passing out finalized versions of the "business" reports tomorrow, which should contain the missing data. There is also some sort of formal black-tie dinner party, so if I can't get the information during the day, we can pay a visit to Silas's room tomorrow night. But either way, tomorrow is our best chance to finish this."

After copying the files, Logan turned back to Max.

"Hmm… once we have the information we can hightail it out of here. Are you ready to have a sick grandmother Max?"

Giving him a genuine smile, Max answered: "Hell yeah. I'm tired of this party. Business magnates can be such a bore. Oh, and Logan… if you ever put me on another mission like this I will so hurt you. I'm made for ass kicking not ass swishing if you get my drift."

"Point noted." He replied, with a truly happy look now. "How about when we get back I make you a very delicious and fancy apology dinner."

"Mmm.. sounds good. In the mean time, I'd better get these papers back to junior. Besides, tomorrow is a big day, we need to get our rest. Even I'm tired."

"Sounds like a plan, good night Max, and remember, be careful."

Max just smiled at him and turned to leave.

After reaching the door, Max turned slightly. "Logan?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm not returning the earrings."

With that Max was out the door.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sleep didn't come easily to Logan that night. Laying in bed, his mind accosted him with all the different avenues of thought it had currently been processing.

Of course there was the Eyes Only mission. Despite their earlier levity, they both knew just how serious this assignment was. The report had indicated that the clients were demanding a test run on a population of at 10,000 individuals in order to prove the effectiveness and range of the chemical war agent. It also indicated that the demonstration was scheduled for early next week. The consequences if Max and him failed were catastrophic.

They also both knew that tomorrow was probably their best bet at retrieving the information. Once plans had been finalized, the responsible members would quickly disperse, making it nearly impossible for law enforcement agents to catch them.

Logan was also nervous about Max snagging the plans. If the earlier switch in documents was noticed before tomorrow's exchange, then additional precautions would be implemented for tomorrow. And despite his proof that Max could handle nearly any situation she was placed in, Logan also knew that they were currently in a security lock box, with dozens of armed guards protecting their variety of bosses. No, if something went sideways, Max would be hard-pressed to get out alive.

Shifting to his side, Logan's mind drift to the security images he'd seen earlier. He'd watched over the monitors to make sure Max replaced Gregson's files safely, prepared to barge in with back-up if the situation called for it. It had actually been a close call, Max had just gotten everything back in order when Gregson emerged from the bathroom. Of course, the logical explanation for Max's presence was her desire to see him.

Logan hadn't meant to watch. He had determinedly avoided monitoring Max's and Peter's previous encounters to keep his emotions from overriding his senses. He'd been honest enough with himself to recognize that watching Max in another man's arms would mess with his judgment.

And he'd been right, as Gregson bent Max over his arms in an attempt to deepen the kiss, Logan had continued to watch Max's face for any signs of emotion. He didn't know what he expected to see, of course she needed to look like she enjoyed it, but Logan couldn't help but wait for the smallest detail of displeasure, detachment, something to let him know she hated this.

Of course she hated it, his brain screamed at him, hadn't she told him as much that afternoon? Still, Logan continued to watch for some sign, his entire body coiling with suppressed emotions as he noted Gregon's hands begin to rove, and his attempt to push Max toward the bed.

As Max let herself be pushed back, her foot had deftly stumbled a bit and she tumbled backwards out of Gregson's hands and onto the floor. She had grabbed her ankle seemingly showing signs of pain. When Gregson turned his back to get the bucket of ice and a towel, Logan had seen it. The slight, barely discernable grimace of dislike that passed over Max's features. He's own features spread to a grim smile and he had torn his eyes away from the spectacle, once more confident in Max's abilities to handle the situation.

Sighing to himself, Logan shifted onto his other side. He was angry with himself for watching; he felt like a twisted voyeur. As much as he hated to admit it, Logan knew Bling had been right. Letting Max take on this job was too close to home.

With nothing else to distract him, Logan had finally been forced to consider the underlying emotional state that made him more willing to risk Max in a warehouse of armed men than in the arms of a wealthy, unscrupulous businessman.

His introspection included his reaction to the events of Kendra's dinner party. There was no doubt that he felt betrayed by the revelation that Max might have been with another man since meeting him. He had lingered at her apartment, wanting to ask her about it, but knowing he couldn't. Upon reflection, he had even had to deny himself the outlet of anger. Just because Logan had perceived them to be in a kind of undisclosed relationship of sorts didn't mean Max did. He didn't have any claim on her, even if at times they seemed…connected.

No, the truth was whatever dance they were doing was destructive, slowly eroding Logan's peace of mind. When consciously considering it, he could pinpoint certain moments when he thought they'd danced close enough to nearly meet: the time in front of the cabin; the first time he'd regained the ability to walk; before their anniversary; right before he'd regained the ability to walk permanently. Each time, one of them had been responsible for pulling away.

The most recent time had been his own fault. Logan couldn't forget what he'd felt when she'd returned with a cure he didn't know existed. He had been relieved to see her alive, angry at the danger she'd put herself in, immensely grateful that she'd obviously cared so much so do this for him. He remembered pulling her into his lap, anxiously running his hands over her arms and hair to make sure she was okay, that Manticore hadn't somehow gotten to her during her brief visit.

She had looked so… accepting of his embrace, so tender even. Closing his eyes, Logan remembered the exchange:

"_Max, don't you ever, ever do something so stupidly reckless for me again. I couldn't deal if I lost you for trying to do me some crazy favor." Impulse had made him reckless in his speech._

_Max's voice had been nearly tearful, "I had to Logan; I had to fix this. It's because of me you were shot, if I hadn't been so…" she hadn't finished, just looked at him as a tear streaked down her face. "I needed to do this," she whispered._

Her admission had felt like someone knocking the wind out of his lungs or like waking from an amazing dream only to find you were trapped in a jail cell. She felt guilty? Is that why she'd come back to him? Continued to help him? Had dinner with him? Played chess? Did she feel like she had been paying back some cosmic debt?

God, he'd felt like such a chump. The meaning behind her intense stares suddenly looked back at him in the form of guilt and pity. He couldn't take it.

_Gently he'd pulled her up from his lap. He firmly stated: "Max, this wasn't your fault. It was never your fault, and I have never blamed you for it even for one second. You don't owe me anything."_

_His words were sincere, but Max shifted uncomfortably as if she could sense something else behind them. She looked slightly confused, but had nodded: "Well either way, it will be better soon."_

_He'd gave her a small smile in return, as the lump had settled in his stomach. And with the cure, he realized, she'd soon be gone too._

That had been four months ago, he speculated. Things hadn't changed, except for a slight distance on his side. Recently, he'd even felt himself dancing back toward her. Finding reasons to call her over or have her stay after dinner.

And this mission, and the events of the recent few weeks, which had so ruthlessly pushed the thought of sex to the forefront of his mind, had forced Logan to see that no matter what Max's reasons for being near him were, his own were decidedly "like that."

Who was he kidding, Logan asked himself. He'd always been incredibly attracted to her, undoubtedly physically, but also psychologically. He was fascinated but what made her tick. He'd wanted to be something to her that she had never had: protector, friend, provider.

And if he was perfectly honest, Max had become something of the same for him. He felt, in some ways, that he belonged to her. Maybe it was Max's need to create a family with whoever she connect with; or the way she refused to let him keep things in neat, separate emotional boxes. But the results were that Logan felt he had certain obligations to Max. Not only in regards to her safety, but also in personal matters. For instance, since Max had come into his life, Logan always had this distinct sense of guilt when other women came on to him. He had never once, in over a year since his short reunion with Valerie, considered starting up a relationship with another woman. There simply wasn't space in his heart or room in his refrigerator.

Realizing how dangerous his thoughts had become, Logan once again turned on his back and willed himself to sleep. Tomorrow was too important to not be sharp. Besides, his thoughts had gone here in the past, only to be shifted back to their proper place by the light of the day. He just needed to do some intense workouts when he got home to clear his mind and quell his bodily urges. Not any easy task when he remembered Max's shiver in front of the mirror…

XXXXXXXX

For Max's part, she'd had no trouble going to sleep. In fact, she'd found herself yawning and stretching before she was even able to lie down. Immediately, the unconscious had leapt up and snatch her into its claws.

A familiar dream accosted Max. The black helicopters and hummers circling her location, the escape that forced her to dispose of some Manticore soldiers. The one lone soldier who Max made strip…,

If Max had cared enough to ever analyze this particular dream, she would have found a great deal to curse in her fucked up psyche.

But at that moment, the only thing her lust-addled brain could focus on was the warm body of the soldier sprawled out beneath her. As had become the pattern of her last few cycles, the figure eventually transformed into Logan, and Max woke with a jolt.

At the best of times, Heat was an unwelcome occurrence that panicked her. But here alone, far away from Original Cindy and the safety of her apartment Max nearly had a panic attack.

Panting heavily, Max's brain kept screaming: God no!! Not now, not here!!


	4. Chapter 4

XXXXXXXX

Two cold showers and two hundred push-ups later, Max finally began to calm down enough to access the situation.

If it was Manticore's screwed up genetics that put Max here; she was determined it would be Manticore's screwed up training that would get her out of it.

Stripping her mind of personal feelings, Max began to run down her options.

Mission: Find enough information about the Gregson family business to take down there latest operation.

Objective: Find the location of the strike, and resist blowing the mission.

Problems: Her heightened libido, Gregon's personal interest in her

Max had realized soon after waking that her freak show body was endangering a lot more than just her peace of mind. Ten-thousand human lives depended on her being able to complete this mission and not alienate Peter Gregson.

The reality of the situation, Max calmly surmised, was that she wouldn't be able to resist the desire to copulate. Banning her usual self-delusions and personal disgust, Max admitted that her heat-cycles increased in intensity with each successive unfulfilled cycle. The heat cycle when she had given in with Rafer had been worse than the previous one with Eric. Given her body's signals, this cycle was worse than the one, four months earlier, that Cindy had nursed her through. The force of this particular cycle, coupled with Gregson's increasingly aggressive tactics – no she hadn't been totally honest with Logan on that score – would make her easy prey for Peter's lust. Running down her options, Max's inner soldier speculated:

One, she could abandon the mission. Currently, she was a liability and with the information they had already gathered, Max might be able to leave the rest of the task to Logan.

The problem: there was no guarantee that Logan would be able to find the necessary information without her; in addition, even with his ability to manipulate the security system, he wouldn't be able to overpower the guards who would surely be protecting Silas Gregson.

Two, she could abandon the objective, claim she were sick or something and hide out until the cycle had passed. This would at least keep her around incase Logan needed back-up.

Problem: The exchange was, mostly likely, going to take place tonight. It might be impossible to get the information afterwards. Also, Logan might not be able to reach her in time if the mission did go sideways, essentially putting her out of commission.

Three, she could copulate with Gregson, slate her lust, and continue with the mission.

Problem: Personal disgust. It also was possible that Gregson would either be alarmed at the intensity of Max's "ardor" and dismiss her once the act was finished, or keep her away from the necessary mission in an effort to continue their tryst. Both might be things Max could deal with, but it would definitely be a risk.

Four, she could tell Logan about her problem and either allow him to "assist her" or help her keep in line in the way Original Cindy did.

Problem: Objectively, it was unlikely that Logan would be able to keep Max from following her urges. His very presence would spurn them on, and even if he was invited to the dinner tonight, the additional attention he would need to show her would alienate Gregson. Personally, Max couldn't stand the thought of him seeing her for the animal she knew she was. Besides, there was really no strategic difference between Logan fulfilling her urges and option…

Five, find a random stranger and satisfy herself so she could return to the task at hand. It was still early, no one would be up, and Max reasoned she could probably lure a willing male into an appropriately unmonitored bathroom pretty quickly.

Problem: Making sure her prey was willing and making sure Gregson didn't find out and kick her out of the casino. Max squashed the nagging voice in the back of her mind that stated she also needed to make sure Logan didn't find out.

No, five was by far the best option. Max felt she could neutralize some of the variables pretty quickly; there was a few assistants lurking around who Max had noticed oogling her. It was also still early, so few people would be watching the monitors closely. Plus, Max reasoned, she could get Logan to scramble the video signal from her room without asking too many questions.

Turning on her television to channel five, Max waited for Logan to call. This was their signal. Channel five, call; channel 3, meeting. As she waited, Max once again considered if she weren't ignoring the best tactical strategy for personal reasons. Surely letting Logan in on her problem and having him "take care" of things would be easier. She wouldn't have to hunt down anyone, she wouldn't feel as completely disgusting afterwards. So what if it might alienate the only man in the world who Max felt close to, wasn't his goal to stop Gregson at whatever cost?

Max tried to clear her mind and focus on the mission. It wasn't working. Her mind kept vacillating between her disgust at taking on some stranger versus her shame at having to face Logan's knowing gaze. And, Max reasoned, if she couldn't focus clearly now, how would she be able to focus once her "encounter" with Logan had gone down. No, she knew her heat induced body would respond to a stranger and she knew she could repress the self-hatred until after her objective was accomplished. The true wildcard would be her response to Logan.

Feeling restless, Max began a series of sit-ups speculating that Zack might have been right about the danger of feelings.

XXXXXX

Despite his difficulty with falling asleep, Logan woke up early, anxious to get the day started and over with. Rolling over to peak at his computer screens, Logan noticed a lot of movement coming from the screen focused on Max's bedroom. Sitting up and putting on his glass, Logan watched as Max did a series of intense sit-ups. From the looks of her, she was either very sweaty or had just taken a shower, her tank top clinging to her body, her wet hair clinging to her neck and forehead.

Logan frowned, it was very unusual for his favorite genetically engineered friend to show any nerves, especially when her physical display would seem out of character to anyone watching the show. He thought about calling her when he noticed the weather channel in the background. That was his signal. Logan scrambled the message from her room, hoping no one would notice Max's sudden disappearance from the floor and sudden reappearance into bed. He then took out his private cell phone and called the corresponding one that she had hidden in the box spring of her mattress.

"Hey." he said, making the word seem more like a question.

"Hey yourself," Max responded, her voice obviously breathy from her physical assertion, or so Logan thought.

"I see your getting your morning workout in."

"Something like that," Max muttered, remembering Logan could watch her, and suddenly feeling a flush of heat from the thought. She needed to fix this soon.

"Listen Logan, there is something I want to check out. Could you scramble the image from my room and the surrounding hallways for a while."

"Of course Max, but what are you going to do? It's five in the morning, no one is up and around, and I'd be happy to check anything out on the monitors for you."

"No I need to take care of this personally."

"Why, did you learn something new last night?"

"Something like that. Listen I'll explain later, I just need to do this now." Her voice was a bit harsher than she would have liked, but overall Max felt she was keeping it professional.

Unfortunately, this wasn't like previous times. Logan could watch her body language and see her nervous gestures.

"Max?"

"Please Logan, I'll let you know what I find out." Before he got a chance to answer, Max stated: "Thanks, and Logan, don't peak," and with that she hung up.

Satisfied that he would do what she asked, Max turned to the next task at hand, finding an outfit. She might hate herself later, but she was damned if she was going to let people get hurt because of Manticore's twisted sense of humor.

In his room, he continued to watch the monitor. He knew something was off. Max was never this nervous, her movements jerky, her expression seemingly conflicted.

Surmising that this might have something to do with her interaction with Gregson from the night before, Bling's words rose unbidden from Logan's mind_. _

"_If we're close to getting the information we need, and it becomes put out or get out situation, with thousands of lives in the balance, don't you think Max might feel a bit of pressure?"_

Logan swallowed nervously, watching Max pace around her room. Was that it? Max was debating whether or not she should slink off to Gregson's room so she could stay and complete the mission. The bile rose in his throat and quickly deciding on a course of action, Logan typed a few codes into his computer, changed into some day clothing, and hung the no maid-service sign on the door before walking out and shutting the door behind him.

XXXXXXXX

Slinking down the hallway in a modified version of her cat suit, Max did her best to make sure this looked like a recon mission. Despite her hint that he should mind his own business, Max was aware that Logan might be watching her to make sure she was safe. It added a twisted edge to what she had to do, but Max knew she could get around the problem as long as she kept her body language fairly neutral, and her face away from the monitors.

Two hallways over, Max caught sight of her quarry. He was an average height, light brown haired, attractive bell hop, who had solicitously inquired after Max's needs on a few occasions. He had been off put by her attachment to Gregson, but like most males, Max reasoned, he could easily be convinced that his company was really what she needed. Running her eyes over his lightly muscled body, Max knew for today at least, he would be right.

Purposely taking a position where she was just under the camera's line of vision, Max smiled seductively at him noticing the slight jolt that ran through him when he realized Max's smile was for him.

"Hey," she purred.

"Hi," he responded awkwardly, obviously confused by her attitude.

"I'm Max." she said, never breaking eye contact.

Finally summing his wits, he smiled back at her, "Simon."

"Hey Simon, I was hoping you could help me out with something." Using a form of psychological warfare, Max let the tip of her tongue wet her lips before slightly biting down on her bottom one.

Still confused, but excited at how this chance meeting was going, Simon came closer to Max, leaning against the wall beside her before replying: "Anything I can do to help."

Letting his masculine scent wash over her, Max decided he was young and confident enough for her to quicken her seduction techniques.

"You see I've been up partying all night with my girls, only to come back to find everyone, including this guy I've been kicking it with fast asleep, he's a bit too old to really take care of me, if you know what I mean," seeing that he did, she continued: "... I'm lonely" Max nearly purred the last bit of her false story.

"Well we can't have that can we?" replied the entranced Simon, boldly taking his hand and placing it on her neck underneath her hair.

The touch sent a spiral of heat through Max's body but before he could lean in to kiss her, Max responded: "Not here, I'd prefer a more private setting."

Using one hand to grab the front of his shirt, Max nearly dragged him across the hallway and into the awaiting bathroom. It was a sign of how distracted she was that her heat-fogged brain didn't register anyone else in the hallway. Halfway to her designation, she was surprised when her wrist was firmly and unexpectedly grabbed by a third party.

"Max, we have to talk."

Logan's grip on Max's wrist was tight, maybe even painful to someone who wasn't an X5, but his voice was low and cold, like his eyes which were which were gripping her with a different type of force.

Asserting her will to squelch the urge to simply replace Simon with Logan on her trip to the can, Max bit down hard on her lip this time to distract her from her turbulent thoughts and emotions.

Realizing there wasn't a way to get out of the situation, except for knocking Logan unconscious, Max turned back to Simon giving him a regretful smile before saying: "Guess my party is up, perhaps we can kick it some other time." She tried to keep the provocative tone out of her voice, but didn't quite succeed. Max felt a responsive increase in pressure from Logan's hand.

Looking like a kid who'd just had his favorite toy smashed in front of his eyes, Simon stumbled a confused: "yeah" before backing away from the sexy Max and her fierce companion.

"Logan." Max began, trying to forestall the storm she knew was coming.

"Not here Max, do you want to blow the entire operation?" his voice held a slight challenge, as if he expected that was exactly what she wanted to do.

Angry at him, angry at the situation and herself, Max jerked her hand away from Logan.

"Fine. Where?"

"Let's try for something a little more private than a public bathroom shall we." As he stalked off to his room, Max reluctantly trailed behind.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Watching her options to get for escaping slide away, Max began to panic as she neared Logan's room. Pausing before his door, Max attempted a quick get away, "Listen Logan I know this all seems strange but I really need to blaze I…"

Having succeeded in opening the door, Logan didn't bother to answer, but simply grabbed Max once again and yanked her into his room. Once again, Max didn't respond in time to resist, totally surprised at Logan's physical reaction to the situation.

The door slammed shut of its own volition, leaving Max trapped with a very angry Logan standing squarely in front of her.

"What the hell was that?" he asked.

Doing her best to think on her feet, Max used her favorite sarcastic voice to respond: "Business Logan…. That kid was our best chance of getting into Silas' room. He had access to Silas' apartment and I figured he'd help us out if I…"

"If you did what?!" Logan interrupted fiercely.

Briefly, Max closed her eyes to break the intense connection between them. She couldn't deal with this now, couldn't think straight with his body so tempting close and her emotions so tangled.

Harshly exhaling, Logan also attempted to get a grip over his surging emotions.

He had never dared to manhandle Max before, had never wanted to, but something about watching her blatant sexual invitation to that guy had cracked his civilized veneer. He had felt a primal sense of betrayal, and he had wanted to punish her – to pull her into the bathroom she had decided to cheapen herself in and give her exactly what she had asked for…

He gritted his teeth as he tried to repress the image of that kid stroking her neck; how could she let somebody so obviously unworthy touch her?!

Business. That was the answer to his unspoken question. And not just any business, but Eyes Only business. Cold logic began to spread through Logan's overheated mind; this was business, his business that he had asked for her help with. Logan tried to contain his fury by reasoning that Max was only doing what she thought he had wanted.

He wasn't quite able to succeed, but the guilt he felt managed to supersede his anger - now that she was safe.

"Max," Logan began as he stepped toward her, "I know I gave you the impression that I wanted you to use your physicality to get information for me, but that isn't what I wanted…"

Stepping closer and placing his fingers under her chin so he could tilt her face up, he waited for her to meet his eyes. Once he had it, Logan whispered, "I'm so sorry," willing her to understand what he was trying to say.

For her part, Max had heard the underlying meaning and had she been in control of herself, she would have smiled at him and replied, "No big dealio Logan, I was just going to lure him into the bathroom to knock him out and steal his keys."

Unfortunately, she wasn't. Her body responded to his touch with an overwhelming wave of lust that fanned throughout her, reaching to her toes.

She had only a moment of sanity in which to act, and so she responded instinctively, kicking out and sending Logan flying back onto his bed. Having removed the threat of his physical proximity, Max turned to run. She nearly made it too, and would have succeeded in rushing right into Silas Gregson, had she not heard voices before they turned the corner.

She had only a second to step back inside Logan's room and shut the door. Setting the lock in place, Max slid down to the floor cradling her face in her hands and pulling her knees to her chest so she wouldn't have to look at the damage she'd caused.

Two seconds! Her conscience screamed at her. Two seconds later and she would have run straight into Silas and blown the entire mission. Ten thousand lives would have ended because Silas Gregson would have assumed what anyone would. That Max was returning from a booty call from Logan Cale's room. He would have passed the information to Peter and both her and Logan would have been tossed from the casino before they would be able to pack their bags.

Shuddering, Max realized just how much bigger this situation was than her and her problems. In her unwillingness to accept what fate had dealt to her, she had risked tactical exposure and the lives of thousands because she was too embarrassed to tell Logan what was happening.

As any decent soldier knew, you don't keep pertinent information to yourself when you were on a team. The reality was, Max's estro-cycles had become a mission-related issue, and as such, needed to be discussed and solved by the team. Steeling herself for what she needed to do, Max raised her head and looked up at Logan.

He was seated on the edge of the bed, with his forearms braced on top his legs to support his upper body. He was looking at her intently, but seemed neither angry nor hurt, just expectant.

In all the time they had known each other, Max had never used her physical strength against Logan. For him, yes, she had used her genetically enhanced abilities to save him, to get information for him, to help him, but never against him.

At another time, Logan would have found having his ass kicked across a room emasculating, but now he saw it as symptomatic that something was radically wrong with Max, and he was waiting for her to let him in on what.

Meeting his gaze, Max began: "Listen Logan, there some things going on that you don't know about and that I need to explain."

"Really Max? I couldn't have guessed." His sarcasm caused her to flinch, and Logan was instantly contrite, standing up to go to her to assure her he wasn't scared or angry.

"No! Don't get up. You need to stay where you are, and when I explain you'll understand why."

Noticing his hurt expression, Max stood up and began to pace on the opposite end of the room, She began again in a softer voice. "Please Logan, it's not what you think. It's a personal issue, a personal weakness. I'm endangering the mission in my current… condition. I'm sorry I hid it from you, but I thought I could take care of it on my own…. I can't."

"Max?" whatever Logan had expected, it wasn't this. "Are you having seizures? I brought extra tryptophan; I always keep it on hand."

"No, not that." Max continued to hesitate, unsure of how to proceed. Realizing that Logan was getting impatient with her reticence, Max stopped pacing and squared her shoulders before facing him. "Recombinant DNA to produce a superior human, right?"

Logan nodded, realizing she was embarrassed by this conversation; a fact, shocking enough to deserve his undivided attention.

"But not all human DNA. In my case, some feline DNA."

Squinting his eyes in concentration, Logan tried to understand where Max was going with this.

When he didn't get it, Max proceeded: "So I'm subject to a lot of the same stuff as cats…" Not breaking eye contact with Logan, again willing him to comprehend her, she continued "….better night vision, increased ability to jump, perhaps more than an average curiosity…" she saw his responding smile, and she pushed on: "certain cycles." She stopped and Logan tilted his head slightly as an idea began to wiggle in the back of his mind.

Taking a deep breath, Max finished, "certain mating cycles."

She saw it dawn on him as his eyes widen and his mouth dropped open slightly: "Oh. Cycles. Really… so you go into…wow." he stopped himself.

But Max pressed on: "Not go into Logan, am into."

He really looked at her then, noticed the flush in her face, the way her body couldn't hold still, the slightly hungry glint in her eyes. She was in heat.

"How bad is it?"

"Well I wasn't taking that kid into the bathroom to shake hands."

The bluntness of her reply startled him; it also hurt him, deeply. "So any stranger will do?"

The derisive question was out before he could stop it. He didn't mean to say it, knew he didn't have a right to say it, but he couldn't stop it either. His mind was racing over the previous scene with the bellhop and the implications of her revelation.

He saw her eyes darken in pain. And without bothering to hide the multiple meanings behind it, he asked: "Why Max?"

"Because Logan, I don't have Original Cindy to hold my hand to get me through this. Because ten thousand lives are counting on me to have my head in the game and get the information tonight. Because I can't control myself, and I hate it and I hate Manticore for doing this to me, but I can't do anything about it here and now…" her voice was still controlled, as it always was, but tears were in her eyes, and Logan could pick up the desperation underlying the calm tone. "Because, I'm an animal Logan."

He had reached her side before he even knew he was standing, pulling her into his arms: "You're not Max. Your one of the most beautiful and caring people I know. I'm sorry I said it. I didn't mean it, it's just seeing these guys touch you… well we all have some animal in us Max."

She smiled briefly at him, but quickly her smile fell and her breath rate rose. Abruptly she pushed him away, this time with just her arms and Logan stumbled back just out of reach. He could see she was panting, her face flushed.

She wanted him; it was raw, naked, and, Logan knew, impersonal.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" He needed to know.

Too tired to dance, Max simply answered: "I didn't want you to see me like this."

"I wouldn't have care, wouldn't have judged you." It was the truth; the last scene was already forgotten once he understood the reasons behind it.

"Max I know who you are and it has nothing to do with what types of DNA Manticore used."

Again, Max smiled briefly, only to have her eyes darken with passion. Rather than responding she dropped to the floor and began to do pushups.

Her actions from this morning were suddenly clear, Logan had to smile a bit. She was kinda like a revved up teenage boy. Turning her head slightly to stare at him, Logan felt his body lurch in response. A very sexy, incredibly beautiful teenage boy who Logan had wanted for a long time.

Clearing his throat, Logan made his voice business-like as he asked: "So Max, give the lowdown on this mating cycle."

Moving faster to quell her desire, Max muttered: "Usually 48 hours…just beginning… gives me the uncontrollable urge to mate..."

"How often does it happen?" The question didn't really matter, given the circumstances, but he needed to know

"Christmas comes two or three times a year," Max sarcastically responded.

Four or five times since we met, Logan quickly figured.

"On a regular cycle or sporadically?"

The question annoyed Max enough for her to pause in her exercise and turn toward him.

"Do you think if I knew I was going to turn into a hormonal freak show I would have agreed to this little vacation?!"

No of course not, thought Logan. Not bothering to annoy her with a response, he asked the million dollar question.

"So how do we fix it?" despite the morning adventure, Logan was positive there must be some solution for her dilemma.

Max quirked an eyebrow in reply.

And Logan's brows drew together in concern. "You don't have some medicine, a sedative perhaps, that lets you focus?"

"Nope."

That would complicate things.

"And this makes you sensitive to most males."

"Correction. All males capable of producing testosterone, though I do have a tendency to focus on ones close at hand."

"So the danger is, you might take out your…energy, on a passing guy and Peter will see."

"If you asking if I'm worried about jumping the bones of the first man I encounter, the answer would be yes. Or, that I'll jump Peter the moment he touches me."

"You can't control it?" Logan was beginning to get a bit desperate, realizing just how bad this could be.

Max glared at him. "Logan, at this moment the only reason I haven't tackled you to the bed is because I'm expending my energy in a different way. Unless you think Peter's going to let me workout and take cold showers all night, I would have to say that yes, sleeping with him is a distinct possibility."

The knot that had been present since this mission began sunk even lower in Logan's gut.

He tried to keep his voice neutral determined to use his interview skills to draw her out; surely Max was overlooking something in her current state.

"But how have you dealt with this is the past Max? I mean surely you've been in situations when you needed to control yourself; to hide it from others."

She gave him an awful smile in response to that statement. It was a moment of truth.

Standing up and walking over to the far corner of the room, Max turned to face Logan. Although she was repressing her urges, Logan could almost smell the pheromones oozing off her. He suddenly knew when he'd previously been around her during heat, it was that smell. In his training room, in the car, in her apartment. He was almost surprised he hadn't known then what was going on. Looking at her lush body, the feral way she walked, the vibes she was unintentionally sending - it seemed so obvious.

But at the time, he reasoned, he'd been busy repressing his own feelings for her; determined there was no way Max could want a broken man. He simply chalked up his observations to his own responses to her beauty; the ones that he'd spent many a night attempting to shut down.

He had run from her and from his feelings, and he knew then, before she even answered, that he was about to pay the price.

She looked at him intently before responding, deliberately and mechanically: "Every time this happens I hide from it and fight it. I fight it with willpower, cold showers, and physical labor; I distract myself with thoughts of pain and filth. I hide myself away from others; I avoid males I care for." She paused.

"Max…" Logan attempted to interrupt, realizing she was causing herself pain.

Ignoring him, the soldier continued:

"Recently, I've asked my best friend to help me; she keeps me company, tries to keep me sane. She smacks me when I lose control, and the pain is welcome…. Even then, I lose sometimes, sometimes the heat wins; it's the way it has always been for me. No magical cure, no deep revelation, no final reprieve. It's war: dirty, violent, merciless. Last time, I won. The time before, Manticore won. When I win, that makes the next cycle worse. It makes this cycle worse. Right now the only thing I want is to wake up tomorrow and know my genetically engineered body isn't responsible for the deaths of ten-thousand people."

He could feel her deep disgust with herself and her revulsion for her "condition" She was almost literally bleeding in front of him, and as much as he wanted to go to her to assure her he didn't care about any of this - that she was still the bravest, strongest person he knew – he also knew she needed her walls to remain intact; for now she needed to be the soldier.

What he could give was solutions, not emotions.

"Then you need to leave Max; I'll finish up our case, bring back the information for the cops. You've done a lot; now let me take it from here."

His instantaneous answer reached her even from behind her barriers. His handsome face looked so serious and concerned. His lean, muscular body, standing there strong, ready to pick up where she left off, to protect her from herself.

He was choosing her over the mission – Max would have smiled except for the pulse that made itself known deep in her lower abdomen; she ached for him.

"I mean it Max. I can handle this."

In her heart Max smiled: Logan Cale, the last honest man in America. She hated herself for needing to bring him back to reality

"Logan," Max began, fortifying herself for the conversation that she knew had to happen, "we don't have time to be unrealistic. I appreciate what you're saying, but we both know what hangs in the balance here. You need me here; I'm the only one who's going to be able to locate the information and over-power the guards. This thing that's going on with me, it's not life or death. For them it is…"

Them… nameless faces, nameless people. People that Logan would probably never meet or have a conversation with. Certainly no one whom he would share the connection he had with Max. Bling's words once again haunted Logan; for the nameless "them" he'd happily sacrifice himself, but how could he sacrifice Max?

She saw his inner turmoil through the window of his eyes. And it thrilled some deep part of her that had nothing to do heat. But it was also useless sentimentality, as Zack would say.

"Max listen, you can.."

She didn't let him continue, the soldier once again asserting herself.

"Logan, that choice has already been made, weeks ago. I'm here and I'm staying. We need to focus on the task at hand." Ruthlessly pressing forward, Max continued: "Now as far as I see it, we have a good diversion already set up. Peter already thinks we're in a relationship, so I need to go to him and beat this heat so we can proceed with the mission. It shouldn't take long and it will help to reinforce my cover.

Max realized this had always been the logical solution; she just hadn't wanted to admit it.

"No!" Logan's response was adamant. "There is no way I'm going to let you do that Max, not with that conceited prick, not for some mission. We'll find another way."

She felt the sincerity of the statement, and her body responded to him. The pulse within her intensified; yes, she could certainly think of another way.

Physically shaking her head, she knew Logan was too noble, too good to accept what she was saying without a fight. But there simply wasn't an alternative and she needed him to recognize that and move on.

"In some ways, this is tactically advantageous." Max calmly stated, "It will gain his trust and alleviate his current advances."

Max recognized the defiant look in Logan's eyes and realized she needed to go for the jugular before her body was beyond her control.

She didn't soften her tone when she said: "The heat won't discriminate, Logan, I'll want him too."

"And afterwards?" he questioned, refusing to be cowed.

"I'll deal."

"No"

"Logan Cale, get this through your do-gooder head. You can't protect my virtue and save the lives of ten thousand people at the same time. There simply isn't enough fairy dust left in your magical bag of tricks."

Max watched the muscles clench in his jaw, and felt the throbbing within her continue to intensify as she eased herself to the door, away from him and the fire he ignited in her.

Logan noticed her movements and realized that soon she'd turn away; turn to Gregson. To an outside observer, he might have looked calm, but inside Logan, a storm was raging.

He knew she was right and he hated himself for knowing it. He knew he couldn't let those people die, and he hated them and himself for it. He also knew he couldn't let her go through with it, that he would never forgive himself if he let her go. Finally, he knew that an unvoiced third option existed, and he hated himself for his body's twisted response to that possibility and the pain it would surely cause Max.

No, Logan was pretty sure he was damned to hell no matter what he did, and he was convinced he deserved it.

Despite all his theoretical musing, Logan had never expected the choice Bling had laid before him three weeks ago to spring into such ferociously literal existence. Yet there is was: Max or the cause.

Before he formulate a truly coherent response, Max continued.

"Now, I'm going to do us both a favor and not ask you to articulate your choice, because we both know there isn't one. I'll see you in a few."

And with that she turned away.

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**Thank you for the lovely reviews; I'm not sure what the edict is with receiving them, but I really enjoy receiving them and hearing what you think of my story.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters**

**There should be no doubt about what this chapter contains. If sexual descriptions offend you, now would be a good time to stop reading.**

**On another matter, I realized I probably drew out this scene beyond the limits of necessity. I admit to adding way more detail than either the show, characters, or my original plan would tolerate. My only defense is that relationships are never simple in the world of DA. :-) **

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She made it four steps before he reached her; Max's inner voice petulantly stated she wouldn't have forgiven him if she'd reached five.

For the second time that day Logan reacted with force, grabbing her upper arms and turning her body to face his.

"I'm not going to let you do this Max."

It was the same, low and intense voice that he often used to back up his humanitarian declarations, but one look into Logan Cale's eyes revealed his rational side had checked out for the moment, and pure visceral instinct was currently running the show.

The part of Max that was still her sarcastically thought, 'I'd like to see you try and stop me,' but the animal in Max responded to his gaze and shivered. Before she could think, she answered both voices simultaneously as she smiled and she'd pressed her body against his.

They both moaned.

Lust and surprise shot through her as Max realized on contact that Logan was aroused; she could feel it and she knew… that he knew… that she knew.

"Max, I'm sorr.."

He didn't get a chance to finish before Max used her enhanced strength to pull his mouth toward her.

Again, a jolt ran through their bodies, and Logan found himself fighting both Max's and his desires to deepen the kiss and intertwine their bodies. His hands made their way to her hips, completely unsure if they were suppose to pull her closer or push her away, as various nerve endings shot out conflicting messages.

Their lips remained together only so long as Max held him. Her mouth eager and insistent, as something like growl escaped her throat. Logan's body responded to her - it had been so long, part of him groaned - but his head and his heart rebelled. This wasn't her, this wasn't Max, and it was for her that he had been waiting.

When she finally released his head to pull at his shirt, Logan pulled his mouth away and lifted her. Instantly, Max wrapped her legs around his torso, excitement drummed through her as she waited for him to carry her to the bed. Instead, Logan made his way to the bathroom. Max barely noticed as her lips pressed against the erratic heartbeat in his throat and as she grinded her body against his.

Logan didn't bother to separate Max from him when he turned on the shower, figuring the cold water would do them both good. It beat down on their joined form for a few chilling seconds before Max sprang away from him. He held on until he was sure she was steady and sanity was returning. He saw the pain in her eyes, the self-recrimination and the rejection, and it took a great deal of willpower not to reach for her then.

Softly he said, "Max, do what you need to do, so we can finish this conversation rationally. I'll leave some dry clothes out here for when you're done."

When she refused to meet his eyes Logan added, "We both need a few minutes to calm down."

Figuring that was all he could safely say, he left her in peace, and after grabbing a towel and a change of clothing for both of them, stationed himself in front of the door to the hallway in case she tried to escape and evade.

It was an unnecessary precaution, when Max emerged from the bathroom minutes later she seemed willing to stay, with her walls up and the soldier in control. Her expression completely inscrutable.

Evenly, almost coolly, Max stated, "We have a problem Logan, which your chivalry isn't going to fix. We have two choices. Both options have merit, either we take care of this now, you and me, which will prevent outside variables, or I go to Gregson and take our relationship to the next level. As I said, the heat won't discriminate, so you need to decide which you have the…" her eyes flashed down briefly, "stomach for."

She was all business, focused and indifferent, only her eyes revealing the raging hormonal battle going on within her.

"Max…" Logan desperately whispered, "How can I be the one to make that decision for you?"

Choosing to ignore his statement for now, Max added: "I do have some concern about the lasting effects of either course of action. Frankly, I've never given in to the heat this early in the cycle, I'm not sure how long the relief with be. Nevertheless, on the chance that it will stop or curb the urges it's worth the risk."

"Max, there has to be another way."

"Logan, the mission is clear. Can you or can you not perform under the circumstances?"

There was a military click to her voice, which annoyingly reminded him of Zack.

"Dammit Max, how can you expect me to talk about it like it's some duty that needs performed? Can I physically do it? Yes, of course I can. Every cell in body wants you, has wanted you for a long time. But like this? Taking advantage of you in this state?"

Logan voice became soft, almost pleading, he needed to reach her through her walls, through the heat. "You're not some soldier to me Max. You're so much more. Tell me what you feeling, what you want. I'll do anything."

His words touched her; Max realized this man wasn't a fellow soldier or an enemy, he was her friend, and at this moment she desperately needed a friend.

She suddenly felt extremely sad and tired as she looked at him. His intense blue eyes expressed his emotions more clearly to her than his words. She knew he wouldn't budge until she talked to him.

Tears threatened to fall, as Max felt the utter unfairness of this moment. After everything they'd done, everything they'd been through, everything they'd sacrificed, didn't they deserve more than this? Didn't they deserve more than some Manticore-induced roll in the mud that would inevitably change the most significant relationship in their, in her, world?

Finally letting herself voice her feelings, Max murmured:

"I hate this Logan, but I'd have to deal with it anywhere. I… I just feel like this is microcosm of my life, choosing between worst case scenarios, my genes dictating my actions, feeling guilty because I have sick urges I can't control…"

"None of this is your fault, Max. None of it defines you." Logan words reached out to caress her.

"Logan," Max whispered, "I don't want him to touch me, but…"

"but what Max?" Logan wasn't sure what she'd say: that she desired Gregson, he was after all a handsome man, or that she just couldn't be with Logan it that way.

"I can't lose you."

She looked like a lost child, so innocent then.

"You won't, not ever, I promise you that Max. No matter what."

He willed her to believe him.

And Max found she didn't have the will to resist his comfort, not even to spare him.

"Then Logan, please."

He saw her choice in her eyes, and he went to her. Standing just in front of her, he felt the heat seep from her body into his. Logan clenched his jaw, so she wouldn't hear the moan of desire that threatened to break from him. He wanted her, but this wasn't about his own passion.

Slowly he raised his hand to her face, pleased it didn't shake.

"Forgive me Max, I wanted our first time to be so different."

"Logan?"

"Yes."

"Please don't let me get too out of control, please I couldn't stand it."

Not really understanding what she meant, he smiled reassuringly at her, before bending to kiss her.

It wasn't like a spark or flash, but an explosion. Their lips clung sweetly together for a moment before instinct roared through them. Her scent overwhelmed him, his blood pounded in his ears, and he crushed her body against his own. He felt the second her body switched to autopilot. Her mouth opened of its own accord and their tongues began to duel, not teasingly but in a primal need to mimic their joining. He wanted to slow down, to enjoy the feel of her body against his, to touch his lips to her neck, to run his hands through her soft, curly hair, but her body was already feverishly hot, rubbing and stroking him so that he couldn't get her to hold still.

He buried his hands in her hair, attempting to take over the drugging kisses, to slow them down to extend the foreplay. But she wouldn't let him. Her hands were everywhere at once, leading him back into the room, unbuttoning his shirt, twining in his hair. With a growl she pushed him back onto the bed, and immediately followed him down.

Before he could adjust himself, she was on top of him. Kissing, biting, scratching. And his body responded in kind, his arousal spiking to an intensity that dazed him, made it impossible for him to do anything but attempt to fuse their bodies together. He held her hips to his, thrilling in the closeness as she tried to buck against him. He felt her frustration at their clothing, and he knew that she would soon lift herself up enough to remove it.

When she did, he used the momentum to turn them so he was on top. Again she bucked against him, pushing him to hurry up and take her. But something equally primitive responded in Logan, he wasn't about to surrender that easily. This was Max, and he was going to be damned if he let something Manticore had done to her completely take over this moment. So instead of acquiescing to her, he leaned down and began to press his lips to her neck and collar bone, allowing his hands to roam up and down the side of her body and under her hips as he gently pressed himself into her.

She was moaning, but she was also frustrated at their lack of progress. When her hands braced themselves against his shoulders in what Logan knew would be an attempt to push him up and over, he swiftly lifted his chest from hers and grabbed both of her wrists, pinning her to bed. Her eyes flashed in anger, but before she could use her X5 strength to fulfill her intention, Logan knelt to her ear and clearly whispered: "Max."

Her body stiffened, as some part of her that was separate from the heat responded to her name. "Listen to me Max. I know you have the strength to take over, but I'm telling you, if you want a willing participant, you need to let me be in control for a while. We'll get there, just more slowly."

He pulled back and saw some sanity staring back at him. "Logan, I'm…"

"Shhh.." her murmured before he captured her lips in a deep kiss.

That wasn't the end of the heat fuel desperation, but Logan was able to slow the pace a bit to see glimmers of Max staring back at him from time to time. However, it was difficult to resist her raw need, it spurred on his own, and way before he wanted it, he found both himself and Max naked, with him poised at her entrance.

Thanking the gods that he was able to cling to a bit of sanity, he stilled her hips with one hand and pulled her hair back from her face with his other.

Once again he called to her from the depths of her instincts: "Max." His voice was gravelly and deep, but still his own. And after a moment, she came up to meet him. He could see the instant she returned and realized what was about to happen.

"Logan?" her voice was half plea, half recognition. She needed this, and so did he.

So deliberately, he entered her, never letting his eyes leave hers. They'd danced so long and far with just their eyes to tell the truth. He wanted her to remember this and remember the look in his as he completed their journey.

Their eyes acted as a fragile connective cord. Logan could feel her: tight and hot around him, but he resisted the urge to thrust. He concentrated all this energy on extending this moment of closeness, to keep her with him as they existed in a place where barriers were useless. It lasted only a few moments, Max's body contracted around him and Logan's eyes slammed shut against the overwhelming sensation, effectively breaking their link.

And then there was nothing but heat, and passion, and insanity. Her nails upon his back. His lips on her neck. They climbed the heights quickly, nearly incoherently, only a small part of Logan registering when Max came apart around him, her spasms generating his own climax. His own release slamming through him, forcefully and suddenly, threatening to render him unconscious.

Soon the pulsing was replaced with a bone deep weariness that Logan struggled against. He needed to assess how she was. He felt the tremor that pass through her body, when Max came out of her haze and back to reality.

Using what was left of his strength, Logan pushed himself onto his forearms so he could look at her. Her face was turned to the side, a look of utter shell shock on her features. He could almost hear her berating herself.

"Max, please look at me."

Slowly she met his gaze. He didn't know what to say to make her feel better. He considered telling her he loved her, but knew that those words weren't the magical elixir others thought them to be. So instead he lightly brushed his lips against hers, noting the small trickle of wetness that met his chin.

Lifting his head, his words came out in a bit of slur, but coherent nonetheless: "You are everything to me today that you were yesterday. Nothing about you has changed in my eyes. Look at me and tell me you understand that."

Her eyes searched his blue depths for the truth, and slowly she nodded.

"Please let me hold you for a little while."

Again she nodded, granting permission, not the soldier but the little girl. So shifting to his side, Logan held her until he was deep in sleep and couldn't protest when she slipped from his bed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

When Logan awoke, it was late-morning and Max was gone. Deeply concern about her emotional state, Logan quickly turned to his computer, switching through the different screens to try and locate her. He found her on the floor of the casino, with Gregson beside her; they were watching a game of poker. The image wasn't close enough to get a good idea of her expression, but when Gregson leaned in to put his arm around her, he watched as Max's body convulsed in what appeared to be a sneeze.

Logan grim smile returned, the ruse seemed to be working as Gregson removed his hands and offered her a hanky. As the day progressed, Max's supposed sickness actually worked well for their mission. The flush to her face and the heat her body was radiating seemed to confirm the presence of a fever. And she was able to join the business men for lunch to see them hand out files and could still gracefully dismiss herself afterward on the premise of taking nap.

It also kept Peter Gregson from become overly aggressive. He couldn't very well attempt to get a sick woman in his bed. Even if did he think Max looked particularly delectable that day he at least didn't do anything about it.

Logan, on his end, felt physically better than he had in a long time. His body was rested and energetic, his mind sharp and focused. And he generated his energy at the mission ahead, realizing there was nothing he could do to help Max at the moment and wanting to make sure he cleared up loose ends so he could be there for her when they had finished this assignment.

Nevertheless, when the necessary files and been hacked, e-mails sent, and phone calls made, Logan felt anything but relief. He didn't know what the consequences of this morning would be, but he knew it was bound to change everything.

Sighing Logan leaned back in his chair and tried to process this new information about Max's feline DNA. Logan had wondered in the past about Max's previous sexual encounters. She was so gorgeous it would be impossible for her not to attract the attention of men; Logan admitted that his own first encounter with her, unusual as it has been, had included a powerful reaction to appearance. But somehow in his musings Logan had always considered Max to be cool, confident and in control of these run-ins. Apparently, this wasn't always the case.

Logan tried to image what it must have been like for her, out in a world that wasn't like you, hiding from your past, always on your own, only to find that one day your own body betrays you into unwanted, and probably incomprehensible, intimacy. She must have been scared.

His mind wondered back to the dinner party and Max's outburst at Sketchy:

_"actually after I have sex with some guy, the first thing I think about is taking a hot shower to remove their disgusting grim from me, and curse whoever made us for our screwed up genetics."_

Logan internally winced at the memory. How much worse did that comment sound now that he knew the undertones of it? And how terrible was it to know he was, in all likelihood, one of those guys.

Removing his glasses, and pinching the bridge of his nose to release the tension, Logan felt the unrestrained waves of guilt come coursing through him. From the moment she had hugged him, after he told her about finding Hannah, Logan had wanted to protect her and please her, realizing the fragile girl that existed under the armor. She was tough, smart, and fierce, but she was also someone who yearned for family and friends, a place in the world, peace. In his own way, Logan had given some of that to her, but now he had to wonder if he wasn't grouped with all the faceless sleazes fortunate enough to run into Max during a time of weakness.

Another man might have taken comfort in knowing that he had tried to protect her from a worse fate, but Logan wasn't particularly interested in pretense. He knew it was his fault that Max was here, away from the protection of Cindy. It was he who convinced her to act as Gregson's girlfriend, exposing her to his sexual advances. The heat was just a catalyst for a course Logan had placed Max on; if it hadn't been heat, it could have been her seizures or a moment of physical weakness. He should have known that, should have realized his supergirl wasn't invulnerable and was too precious to endanger.

The fact that it had been him rather than Gregson didn't make it easier; Logan could only view his actions as totally self-centered, a palliative for him and not Max. When she had been in the cold shower, giving him a short reprieve to think, Logan had had vague notion of holding himself back from receiving release should the union happen, a symbolic gesture of respect to her. That naïve though noble sentiment hadn't made it past the moment her tongue penetrated his lips.

Logan was galled by his own weakness.

He wondered if Max had chosen Gregson over him, if he would have let her go. If his selfishness would have extended to manipulation or coercion, he honestly didn't know. No, from the moment her biological cycle had kicked in Max had certainly been damned if she did or damned if she didn't.

He only hoped she was doing okay now. He had been keeping a watch for her in the monitors and he had noticed the increasingly tense way she held her body as the day had gone on. Her gaze sometimes lingering over a male form or engaging a passing figure in a conversation before shaking herself and running away.

Again, Logan felt the nagging sense of protectiveness over Max. His jealousy and guilt and anxiety all served to make an interesting mixture of bile in his stomach. He was relieved finally to see Max enter her room, probably getting ready for the night's dinner party. Instead, she switched on her television, and Logan reached for the phone…

XXXXXXXX

For such a life altering mission, Max reasoned that the actual leg work had been pretty easy. She had spent the day doing recon, and deducing where she could find the necessary documents. She had managed to keep her mind on the objective, only allowing a few images of her morning with Logan to interrupt and disconcert her.

After a few hours with Gregson, she had used her sickness as an excuse to plead out of the dinner party to do some cat-burgling into Silas' room. The mission had gone as planned, and Max felt slightly disappointed that she hadn't been able to kick some ass to relieve the mounting tension within her.

Her earlier conversation with Logan slipped through her mind as she slinked back through the hallways.

_Earlier…_

She had immediately switched on their signal, not giving herself a chance to make up any excuses; she only had to wait a few seconds for Logan's call and she briefly wondered how closely he had been watching her today.

Max had kept her tone of voice professional and efficient, "Hey, I've got the lowdown on the files, I'm going to ditch the party and head straight for Silas' room; I need you to give me a breakdown of the room's layout and security.

"Sure thing Max, just a second."

If he felt weird about their previous encounter, Logan didn't show it in his voice. It was neither cold nor overly intimate – it was just Logan, and Max appreciated it. As she heard his fingers rapidly tapping the computer keys, Max felt a sense of comfort at the familiar exchange. This was them; they hadn't disappeared in the magnified moment.

Logan filled her in on what he could learn from the monitors and room layout Kennedy had given him. Together they had decided that Max entering from the window, lowering herself from the roof, would be the best strategy. And unlike most plans, this was one that had actually worked – no one had discovered Max's breaking and entering outing, yet.

When they had finished with business, there had been a slight hesitation on both their parts. It was Logan who broke the pause.

"Max… _hurry_."

Max shivered. How any man could convey so much meaning in a word mystified her. Logan hadn't gone all sappy on her, maintaining a focus on the mission that any Manticore field officer would be proud of, but he had managed to express a concern over her well-being in the form of and mission-related command. Max knew he wasn't telling her to actually move faster or get started; he was telling her that he knew she was getting antsy, and that he was worried for both her physical and emotional well-being. She also noted he didn't seem ready to burst in and pull a white-knight act, an annoying habit she had needed to break him of when he regained the ability to walk. For now, he was content to stay in combat mode.

The brief contact had been reassuring and had allowed Max to finish the day with her mind alert to the task at hand. Now all they needed to do was get the information to the right people and get the hell out of here. Then she could deal with the consequences of her inner cat.

XX

Reentering her room, Max didn't bother to turn on their signal but immediately reached for the phone.

There wasn't time for awkward banter, Logan was anxious to relay some important information to Max, and so he immediately switched into work mode.

"Hey, listen, Gregson's on his way to your room, you'd better appear sick."

"Gottcha, I'll get rid of him then bring the file over. Late."

Max quickly stripped off the outer layer of her cat suite, put the file and phone under her mattress, and rumpled the bed. She had just registered the knock when she realized a key was being used to open the door. Max dived under the covers, just managing to get them over her when Peter stumbled into the room.

He didn't leave any doubt as to why he was here; he simply stumbled over to sit on the edge of her bed and ran his hands through her hair: "Wake up sleeping beauty, this frog wants a kiss."

"Peter?" Max managed to sound groggy as if just having woken up. "What are you doing here? I thought I locked the door."

"Benefit of owning the building," he slurred. "Come on, I've been thinking about you all night and I just can't wait any longer."

Pushing her on her back, Peter Gregson leaned over Max and kissed her hard. Max could taste the alcohol and unpleasant smell of cigarettes, but she could also feel her heat-induced body responding to his demands, her desires had been growing in intensity as the day progressed. Involuntarily, her arms wrapped around him, and she could feel his body stretching out on top her.

Inside her mind, the two sides of Max Guevera were warring. The rational half of her brain was screaming out in indignance, livid that this drunken fool had barged into her room expecting to get some because he had purchased her a few presents. The instinctive half of Max's mind was just as insistent, arguing that she shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, she had a willing male body leaning over her, ready to stop the fierce pounding of the heat that threatened to engulf her.

Fortunately, a third side of Max decided to take this moment to weigh with an observation; the emotional side of Max volunteered that it would much rather be doing this with Logan.

Logan! All three sides came crashing back together as Max realized Logan was undoubtedly watching this. Swiftly she pushed Peter off her, pretending to be having a coughing fit.

Looking up over at him, Max gave what she hoped was an apologetic and sickly smile and stated: "I'm sorry Peter, but I ralphed twice tonight."

Max watched the emotions of disgust and disappointment play across his face as he finally muttered a "sorry" and departed her room.

Max felt a little shaky as she got up from bed. She went into her bathroom, brushed her teeth and splashed water on her face before heading back into her room and snagging the files from under her bed. Nodding to the hidden camera, Max snuck out of her room.

XXXXXXXX

After the aforementioned scene with Max and Gregson, Logan Cale could be found sitting in his chair in his hotel room in front of his desk and computer with his legs stretched out before him. His glasses were off, and one hand was covering his eyes and the upper half of his face. Everything about him radiated tension. Finally bringing his hand down, to rub against the stubble on his chin, Logan was able to calm himself slightly and put his emotions in some semblance of order, preparing to see Max.

As if answering his thought, Max chose that moment to enter his room.

For the most part, the room was pitch black, only a halo of light was cast from a lamp on Logan's desk. Therefore, it took a few moments before Logan could see the expression on her face. Finally, when she was just inside the circle of light she stopped walking and just looked at him.

To Logan, her eyes seemed sad and tired, and strangely needy. She had been shaken by the experience he realized; probably angry at her body's response to Peter and wary of Logan's reception. She reminded him of the quiet, sick Max who laid so still after her seizures.

Slowly, as if not to startle her, Logan rose from the chair and reached out his hand for her.

Max hadn't needed to wait to see Logan's face; as she walked across the room she could see he looked tense and tired, and oddly upset. He was wearing a black fitted sweat and charcoal pants and seemed to be the very essence of masculine beauty and strength. He also seemed so comfortingly familiar.

She wanted him, on so many levels.

When he stretched his hand to her, she went willingly, letting him wrap his arms around her and hold her close to his body.

Max wasn't particularly comfortable with human touch, so she only stayed within his arms for a minute or two, but that was enough. As she backed out, Max looked up in his face, searching for something.

"Logan?" Just one word, but it contained all the loneliness and longing that she felt.

In response to her unspoken question, Logan searched her eyes, it only took a moment, but he wanted to make sure he understood what she was asking. Then, he leaned down and kissed her.

He tasted the mint of her toothpaste and felt the warmth of her body; he also noticed the shiver of anticipation run through her and he felt his own body's answering reaction to her desire. Before her animalistic cravings could take over, however, he lifted her body so she could wrap her legs around him and strolled over to the bed where he laid her gently.

He did his best to make slow, leisurely love to her. She needed to feel warmth and softness; he did his best to make her feel their connection, to let her know he wasn't just some guy. He did his best, but inevitably the heat took over.

One minute his thumbs were running smooth circles up her rib cage, his tongue sensually tangling with hers as her hands hesitantly caressed his shoulder blades. The next, his thumbs had reached the underside of her breasts, and the jolt that seemed to rock her entire frame turned her fingers to claws and her kisses to a war for dominance. Logan couldn't remember something that engendered such polarized responses within him; he was both acutely disappointed and violently aroused.

She ended up on top, desperately seeking the peak. Screaming in pleasure, she found it, but when she tumbled down the mountain, as she always did, she fell into Logan's embrace.

She cried then, cried for previous experiences and future mistakes. She cried for what had just happened, and what had happened long ago. And he let her. Eventually, she stilled and began to retreat to safer ground.

"If I find out from Bling that I've been labeled "the crier" I will so beat your ass."

He smiled up at her, but continued to stroke her face; "Just as long as I don't become an example at one of Kendra's dinner parties."

"Deal."

She shifted out his arms, unable to continue with this level of intimacy. Realizing that she needed to retreat and lick her wounds, Logan reluctantly decided to get up and send the information they had just found to Matt Sung.

While Logan's eyes were safely secured on the screen, Max found her clothing and contemplated her next course of action.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she jumped a bit when Logan said: "Well that should do it. The residents of Genoa, Idaho can rest easier tonight, knowing they won't end up as guinea pigs for bio-war agents."

"Now we need to see about getting our asses out of here before we become victims of the Gregson family goons." Max replied.

_Before the heat sets in again, before Gregson makes another pass at me, before I have time to think about the consequences of my actions….Max's mind echoed._

"The way I see it, this information won't make it into Gregson family radar until tomorrow night, if not later. That gives us time to make graceful, separate exists."

"Logan, not that I don't appreciate the whole graceful exist thing, but why can't we just blow this joint tonight? Get away before they have a chance to find anything?"

"Because, unfortunately, we used our real identities to get in," Logan had a fair idea of why Max was anxious to leave, but he'd promised her this wouldn't be exposure for her, and to do that they needed to be careful about their exit strategy.

"Couldn't we just make something up? Pretend that we decided to reconnect, the whole exes get dirty again thing. We could drop hints to the person manning the front desk, and hell, the whole thing would have a nice continuity to it."

Max's face looked calm and collected, and her voice carried her usual sarcastic attitude, but Logan could tell that being here was really bothering her. She wouldn't have touched so closed to their recent activities if it didn't.

"Max, if that's really what you want to do, we will. But personally, I'm not very thrilled about having our intimate moments pawed over by Gregson and family."

"What do you mean? You've blocked the feed from the cameras."

"That's true, but do you really think that Peter Gregson isn't going to check the security tapes to see where amid your outings and supposed sickness you found time to hook up with me? And if that footage doesn't exist, don't you think they'll get suspicious when things go down?"

Seeing her disappointed face, Logan continued: "I can do it Max, but I will have to doctor something up."

"No. Don't do that. We'll find a way to leave tomorrow."

Walking over to the window, Max stared out, her expression unreadable.

She seemed very detached from him at that moment, and Logan couldn't resist the urge to attempt to reconnect.

"If you want to, you could stay here tonight." He offered. Seeing her eyes flicker to his, Logan felt self-conscious and attempted to clarify his statement, "We can sleep, or play chess, or whatever…"

"It's the whatever that I'm worried about," responded Max, as her eyes quickly scanning down his naked chest.

Feeling his body's reaction to her innuendo, Logan became uncomfortably aware of how little his silk boxers did to cover his modesty.

Smiling as if she could read his thoughts, Max replied: "Nah, think I'd better head to my own room. But what do you say, give a girl a ride back to town? I'll meet up with you in front little napolini pizzeria at noon tomorrow?"

"Think I could swing by. Do you know what you're going to say to Gregson?"

"Yeah, I have an idea of what our relationship ending fight is going to be about. Night Logan."

"Max!"

She turned to face him and he felt himself stumbling over the words, not quite sure how to ask his question without sounding offensive: "Are you going to be, you know, okay?"

She smiled at his discomfort, amused that a man who had just had sex with her twice in 24 hours due to a certain feline problem would be embarrassed to ask about the state of that same issue.

"I'll be alright Logan, and if I get an uncontrollable itch I'll be sure to ask you to scratch it."

He didn't trust himself to answer, so he nodded instead.

"Good night Max."

XXXXXXXXX

Logan Cale, of the Seattle Cales, checked out around 10 the next morning, anxious to go back to his journalistic endeavors. Silas Gregson saw him checking out and wished him a safe ride back and to tell his aunt hello the next time he saw her.

At 10:40 a.m. Peter Gregson found out how much Max Guervera hated him stumbling into her room at night, when she was sick, demanding sexual favors.

She told Peter she felt he had exploited his social position when he used a key to enter her room. An action which was, she said, unforgivable. Yes, she could clearly see that he regarded her as nothing but a body without a heart or soul and so she was going to be on the next bus back to Seattle. But… she was keeping the earrings.

At around 11:30 a.m. Max got off the bus at a small pizzeria; her ride was already sitting there anxiously waiting her arrival.

Her internal monologue went something like this: God, Logan looks hot. No, down girl, you've already wore out your welcome on that boat…

Around 11:45, with pieces of pizza in hand, the two took off for Seattle in Logan's Aztek. The first third of the car ride was enjoyable as they exchanged stories about their departure.

Logan particularly liked the bit where Max had accused Gregson of breaking and entering; not particularly subtle, but amusing nonetheless.

Unfortunately, the windows began to fog up as the unmistakable scent of pheromones permeated the car. The rest of the ride was conducted in agony. Max attempted to focus on the passing view and on controlling her breathing. She wanted nothing more than for Logan to stop the car so she could straddle him.

Logan spent the ride painfully aware of his companion's conundrum; debating each mile whether it would be appropriate for him to bring up her discomfort. He wanted to suggest that they pull off somewhere and ease their mutual stress. However, Logan Cale was too much the gentlemen and far too infatuated with his companion to risk offending her.

And, ultimately, without ten thousand lives in the balance, they both lacked the courage and impetuous for pushing things. Nevertheless, neither could claim that were oblivious to the other's physical presence.

Yes, when they got back things were going to have to change. Of that much, at least, they were both certain.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**So ends my original plan for this story arch, which I thought would be much shorter. However, I'm not sure if I'm finished yet. I think I might try to take it a step further into the backlash of such an event. So if you're interested, I'd love for you to keep reading along.**

**Thank you so much for the reviews, I didn't know how delightful they would be to receive! I appreciate all of them, but especially the ones from those of you considerate enough to point out lines or scenes you like; they give me an idea of where to go with what I'm doing.**


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